


What's It Gonna Be

by lemonoclefox



Series: What's It Gonna Be [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, Baking, Banter, Businessman Alec, Darcy Alec, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Lizzie Magnus, M/M, Miscommunication, Multiple Pairings, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, accurate tho, pastry chef Magnus, these two aren't even really tags why am i adding them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonoclefox/pseuds/lemonoclefox
Summary: Fairchild’s bakery is a second home to not just Magnus, but also to most of his found-family. As a pastry chef, he works long hours and takes great pride in his craft – so much so that he has little time or attention for much else. Least of all romance. After plenty of experience with heartbreak and disappointment, he has come to expect the worst from anything in that department, and the arrival of the wealthy Lightwoods in the neighborhood isn’t about to change that. Especially not when their eldest son might just be the most insufferable prick Magnus has ever met, no matter what anyone else has to say about the guy.(aka the Pride & Prejudice/bakery AU no one asked for)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made another thing! And no, _Set Me In Motion_ has not been abandoned, it's still very much happening. I just write other stuff too, sometimes (lots of other stuff).  
>  This fic will be in three parts, with no set update schedule, but I'll try not to drag it out too long... 
> 
> Apparently, I can't write malec without adding food? And once again, I have managed to give my characters professions I know little to nothing about, so bear with me. The story is based on Pride & Prejudice, but more specifically, the 2005 movie version (bc it's lovely and fantastic and perfect, fight me). Some things in this story are blatant references to it, while I have taken great liberties with others -- I've done my best to keep the soul of the story the same. Also, for the sake of this fic, Valentine is no one's dad, and is no one's ex (who is Clary's dad, then? idk, Luke is her de-facto dad, so who cares). Enjoy!

"Looks like they're finally doing something with that building."

Jocelyn says it in passing as she enters the bakery, a fresh bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"Yeah," Luke says, sipping his coffee as he skims the front page of the morning paper. Magnus looks over at him. Luke is far from old, but he just looks so much like a _dad_ with his reading glasses perched on his nose like that. "About time."

Jocelyn heads over to the counter of the shop and puts the flowers down to prepare a vase. Meanwhile, Clary is organizing the freshly-made pastries that have just been brought out from the back room, making the place look as welcoming as ever.

"What are they gonna do with it?" she asks, putting a few muffins on display underneath the counter.

"Offices, mostly," Luke says, while Jocelyn throws out the old flowers already occupying the counter. "It's Lightwood Enterprises, expanding their business."

"Riveting," Magnus says dryly, sipping his morning coffee. "More suits, what fun."

Luke looks up at him with a small smile that looks just as dad-ish as those glasses.

"More jobs," he points out. "Not everyone can live the carefree life of an artist."

"My hours are insane, and I can barely afford this coffee," Magnus says dramatically, gesturing with his cup and ignoring Luke's jab at how seriously he takes his aesthetic responsibilities as a pastry chef. "I assure you, my life is anything but carefree. Not that it's not delicious coffee," he adds when he sees Jocelyn's disapproving look, and he throws in a smile for good measure.

"And you get it for free," Jocelyn points out. "Because you work here. So a little less 'woe is me', thanks."

"Wouldn't be an artist, if I didn't suffer," Magnus says under his breath, making Clary snort. He throws her a wink and smiles as he sips his drink, pleased.

"These guys are pretty loaded, though," Luke says, folding up the paper and placing it on the small, round table in front of him as he leans back in his chair. It creaks slightly, an old rickety thing that matches the vintage, charming decor of this bakery/café. It's only seven-thirty a.m., but they've already been open for half an hour, and the first patrons of the day have been trickling in since then. "It would be a great boost for the neighborhood, and they might bring in some more foot traffic."

"You really think the kind of people who'd work there would come to a place like this?" Magnus says from where he leans against the doorway to the kitchen, gesturing around the pastel, albeit very tastefully decorated space. Another look from Jocelyn prompts him to continue. "An exquisite, charming, one-of-a-kind place like this?"

Jocelyn rolls her eyes, and Clary laughs as she picks up the now-empty muffin tray and heads to the back room. She soon returns with another tray, this one laden with croissants.

"They might not be that bad," Luke says, and Magnus turns back to him. "Don't judge them too quickly."

Magnus snorts.

"I'm not usually the one who does the judging," he says, sipping his coffee, and Jocelyn gives him a look.

"Magnus, don't sass," she says calmly, adjusting the fresh bouquet of flowers now sitting in the stylish vase on the counter, "or I'll remove your employee privileges."

Magnus's jaw drops.

"You wouldn't dare," he says, cradling his coffee cup protectively, and Jocelyn raises her eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I would," she says, and Magnus's mouth curves in a petulant expression.

"Should be interesting to see how they blend in," Luke muses. He scratches his stubble as he gets up from his seat. There's a customer approaching the counter, and he heads to the register to help out. "I bumped into one of them, the other day. He seemed nice enough. Not as uptight as you'd expect."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Magnus says. Luke shakes his head, but there's a small, fond smile on his face.

"Magnus," Clary says, handing him the now-empty croissant tray, as all the goods have been put in place. "Could you take care of this? I'm running late."

Magnus takes the tray, Clary immediately using her free hands to undo the apron tied around her waist. It's in pale green, with the bakery's logo on the front; _Fairchild's,_ lettered in white and flanked by a pair of butterfly-like wings.

"Sure thing," Magnus says, and Clary draws a tired breath and also hands him the discarded apron.

"Thanks," she says. She quickly re-does her long ponytail and grabs her jacket and shoulder bag that's sitting on the floor behind the counter. She kisses Jocelyn on the cheek, then Luke. "Bye."

"Bye, honey," Jocelyn says, and Clary leans over to peek into the kitchen, where the actual baking is done.

"Bye, Raphael," she calls, and Magnus doesn't even have to turn and look to know that Raphael is only replying with a halfhearted wave, at most; the smile on Clary's face is a dead giveaway. She kisses Magnus on the cheek. "I'll see you guys tonight."

"Wouldn't miss it," Magnus says. With that, Clary heads out the front door of the bakery, and Jocelyn sighs.

"I wish she'd spend less time working, and more time on school," she says, and Luke chuckles. He hands the current customer their change and their order, and turns to his wife.

"This is Clary you're talking about," he says. "I can't imagine her slowing down for a minute, especially not when it comes to family."

Magnus gestures at him with his coffee cup in agreement.

"Still," Jocelyn says. "She worked hard to get into art school, especially such a good one. I just don't want her to take on too much."

"She'll be fine," Magnus assures her. He finishes off his coffee and pushes away from the doorway. "If she's anything like her parents."

He smiles as he catches the fond looks from both Luke and Jocelyn, before he heads into the kitchen to get back to work.

 

* * *

 

Despite starting his days so early, and being rather tired at the end of them, Magnus still does his best to never half-ass anything. So when it's time to go see Simon's band play at a local bar that night, Clary is the one who has to practically drag him out of his apartment to make sure they'll get there on time, lest his grooming make them run late.

There is some objection, but Magnus is still rather pleased with his ensemble for the evening; dark purple pants and a black shirt with a plunging neckline, matched with black boots and his usual array of jewelry. The makeup has been given some extra attention, with some shimmer highlighter along with the black kohl around his eyes, as well as some purple added to his high-styled hair to complete the look.

When they get to the bar, the place is surprisingly crowded. Though 'bar' may be a bit of a stretch―perhaps it would be better described as a late-night coffee shop with a liquor license, given the relaxed vibe and complete lack of beer stains. Still, it's a very suitable venue, and Magnus and Clary get some drinks before seeking out their friends.

"Hey," Clary says, throwing her arms around Simon when they find him. "Sorry we're late."

"Don't worry about it," Simon says. "Doesn't look like we'll go on for at least another hour."

"You're telling me I could have napped longer?" Magnus says, sipping his cocktail, and Simon shrugs.

"Sorry," he says. "These things are fickle." He looks over his shoulder. "Speaking of, I gotta go. See you guys later. And thanks for coming. Really."

He leaves Clary and Magnus behind, with an apologetic but very grateful smile, and Magnus turns to Clary.

"Great," he says, smiling. "More time to mingle."

It's not long before Raphael shows up as well, always diligently supporting his boyfriend's musical endeavors, no matter how reluctant his involvement seems on the surface. He's followed by Ragnor, who immediately gets a drink and beelines his way to Magnus's side, while Raphael goes to find Simon.

"Remind me again why I'm here," Ragnor says, and Magnus claps a hand on his shoulder.

"Because contrary to popular opinion," he says, "you actually enjoy fun things."

"You say that as though I wasn't emotionally blackmailed into this," Ragnor says. "Raphael's attachment to that boy is bad for my health."

"Have you seen Luke?" Jocelyn asks as she finds their small group. "I seem to have lost him."

Magnus looks around, and almost immediately spots Luke nearby. He seems to be talking to some people, and Magnus leads the way over to him, Jocelyn, Clary, and Ragnor in tow. Luke's gaze instantly falls on Jocelyn as soon as they arrive, and his face lights up with a smile.

"Hey," he says, pulling his wife against his side to plant a warm kiss on her lips. He turns to the others. "Glad you could make it."

"Of course," Clary says, with almost sarcastic certainty. "Last time I missed a gig, Simon wouldn't talk to me for an entire day. Which is incredibly impressive, for him."

Luke chuckles, then turns to one of the strangers standing in front of him. The stranger in question is blond, with a neat undercut, and a face that honestly makes him look like he belongs in a magazine. Model-handsome, Magnus would call it, especially with that seemingly natural pout.

"This is the guy I mentioned," Luke says. "The new owner of that building."

"Well, _I'm_ not the owner," the blond man says, with a half-smile. "But yeah." He turns to Magnus and the others. "Jace," he introduces himself. "And uh, this is Alec."

He gestures at a tall, tense-looking guy next to him, who gives a very tight, small smile. _So this is what the rumored Lightwoods look like,_ Magnus thinks, although the dark-haired Alec looks nothing like Jace.

Jace gestures at a blonde woman standing between the two of them.

"And this is Lydia Branwell," he says. "She's practically family, and does way more for the company than I do."

Lydia glares at him in a rather sister-like way, then turns back to the rest of the group.

"Nice to meet you," Clary says, and Lydia smiles at her. Meanwhile, Alec just gives Clary a nod, and Magnus almost feels bad for the guy; he looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"I'm Jocelyn," Jocelyn says with a smile. "Luke and I run Fairchild's, just down the street. But you probably knew that. This is my daughter, Clary. That's Ragnor. And this is―"

She turns to Magnus, who finishes for her.

"Magnus Bane," he says with a polite smile. "Family friend."

He gets an acknowledging nod from Jace and Lydia, as well as Alec, who also quickly eyes him up and down with what looks like a disapproving expression, gaze especially lingering on the inappropriate amount of chest Magnus is showing. It makes Magnus bristle, but he says nothing. He's used to being looked at like that, one way or another. Especially by those who consider themselves to be of a higher class.

The conversation that follows turns out to be rather pleasant. Well, at least from Jace and Lydia; Alec seems determined to not say a word, and he quickly blends into the background while the others talk. It's clear that he's listening, though. Magnus watches the way his eyes dart between the different speakers, a drink in his hand, one which he sips at regular intervals. Both Lightwoods, as well as Lydia, seem to have gone for formal casual attire, combining the professionalism of their status with the relaxed atmosphere of this place. In Alec's case, this takes the shape of all black, just pants and a shirt, which Magnus must admit is flattering on him, but perhaps a tad unoriginal.

"Izzy called, by the way," Lydia says after a while, turning to Alec. In the past few minutes, Simon and Raphael have joined the conversation as well, and Magnus distracts himself from Simon's rambling for a moment, to listen to the newcomers instead.

"How's she doing?" Alec asks, which is enough to make Magnus ever so slightly raise his eyebrows in surprise. The guy does have a voice, it seems. A deep, pleasant voice. His tone is neutral, but the genuine interest is still very much there.

"She's doing great," Lydia says with a fond smile. "Full house, as usual. She's headed to Philadelphia tomorrow."

"Baby sister's first tour," Jace says with an affectionate grin. He turns to the rest of the group. "I don't know if you've heard of Isabelle Lightwood?"

He says it with an unmistakable note of pride in his voice, and Simon's eyes go wide.

"Wait," Simon says. " _The_ Isabelle Lightwood? She's your sister?"

"Obviously," Alec says, but the way his expression closes off just a moment later says he didn't mean to say that out loud.

"That, she is," Jace says, soaking up Simon's reaction as though the guy is complimenting _him_ , and not his singer-songwriter indie sensation sister. Magnus recognizes the name, even if only due to Simon mentioning her a few times.

"And my girlfriend," Lydia says, a different kind of pride in her voice, tinged with undeniable affection.

"An artist in the family," Clary says, clearly surprised, but pleasantly so. "How'd that happen?"

"We all have our own ways of channeling creativity, I guess," Jace says with a shrug. Magnus swears they're the slightest hint of suggestiveness in his tone, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. Jace's expression grows a little more sincere then, almost shy―as shy as Magnus can imagine him looking, at least. "So you paint, right?"

Clary nods, smiling.

"And draw," she says. "I go to the Brooklyn Academy of Art. Magnus does a little bit of everything, but mostly pastries, and we both work at the bakery. So does Simon."

"Part-time," Simon points out, and Clary rolls her eyes with a fond smile.

"Most importantly," she says, "he's obviously the musician in the family."

Jace turns to Magnus, who gives him a small smile, and then looks at Ragnor.

"And you?" he asks. Ragnor shrugs.

"Muse, I suppose," he says dryly, and a small ripple of laughter runs through the group.

"He also does a lot of practical stuff," Simon says.

"If by 'practical stuff'," Ragnor says, "you mean finance, then yes."

"He keeps Fairchild's up and running," Clary says, a little teasingly but still with sincerity, and Magnus chuckles as Ragnor just raises his eyebrows in dry acknowledgment.

"Not entirely true, but sure," Raphael pipes up, his tone flat, and Simon wraps an arm around his waist.

"And my beloved, here," he says obnoxiously, "likes to bake."

Raphael groans as Simon presses a kiss to his cheek, but there's no heat behind it, and Magnus can't help but feel a sense of warm fondness as he watches them.

"Basically, Fairchild's is everyone's home, in a way," Clary says, and Magnus definitely catches the small smile she and Jace exchange. _Well, now._

"That's nice," Jace says, and he really sounds like he means it.

 

Anyone would be blind not to see just how well Clary and Jace hit it off.

As Clary and Simon join the people on the impromptu dance floor later on, Clary actually manages to coax Jace into joining them, while Raphael proves to be a bit more difficult. Magnus watches from the sidelines, amused, as Simon eventually gives up on his boyfriend and goes back to moving in uncoordinated movements that somehow pass for dancing. As a musician, you'd think he'd have better rhythm, to be honest.

Lydia has stepped away for a phone call, Luke and Jocelyn have found a table in a corner somewhere, and Alec has therefore been left standing by himself, watching his brother and their new acquaintances have a good time. Magnus hesitates, eyes Alec from a respectable distance, before deciding that it would be rude not to try and make the guy feel welcome. He seems to already feel so out of place.

Magnus slowly makes his way over. Alec glances at him as he approaches, but that's all the reaction he gets, really.

"Having fun?" Magnus asks when he's close enough, and Alec throws him another glance.

"I guess," he says, but it sounds anything but enthusiastic. Magnus pauses, observes the dance floor for a moment. Then he raises his eyebrows, turns back to Alec.

"You don't dance?" he asks conversationally, figuring that he should at least make an effort.

"Not if I can help it," Alec replies flatly, still looking straight ahead, and Magnus almost pulls back at the incredibly bored tone. The guy sounds almost offended that he asked, and Magnus inhales, counts to five, and nods. Okay, _what an asshole._

He turns back to the small dance floor, and Clary catches his eye. She grins broadly at him and waves him over, to which Magnus hesitates for about a second, before deciding that this particular Lightwood seems to be a lost cause, anyway. So he gives Clary a bright smile, and joins her, and he doesn't even look back at the grouchy young man staying put behind him.

 

"You can't just hide away forever, you know," Magnus says, startling Ragnor where he's stood in a corner. Ragnor jumps, then grumbles at Magnus's blatantly amused expression.

"You know how I feel about this kind of spectacle," Ragnor says grumpily, scowling at the crowd and sipping his drink. Magnus raises his eyebrows dubiously.

"'Spectacle'?" he asks. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think? We're here for Simon, keep that in mind."

"Yes, yes, of course," Ragnor relents, but he sounds no less grumpy. "When is the little bugger performing, anyway?"

Magnus smacks his arm.

"Do you need another drink?" he says. "Something to dilute all that salt?"

Ragnor levels him with a glare.

"Hush," he says. "This just isn't my usual scene."

"And we all appreciate your sacrifice," Magnus says. "I'm sure that―"

He cuts himself off as he hears a familiar name said by a familiar voice.

"Man, Clary's awesome." It's Jace, Magnus realizes, the blond one. He's on the other side of a small dividing wall, allowing Magnus to clearly hear, but not see him. "She's so great. And she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"I've heard that before." Alec, this time, already having spoken more words than Magnus would have imagined him capable of. Not that they sound any less bored than earlier.

"Ha-ha," Jace says flatly. "Very funny. Seriously though, she's amazing."

Magnus turns to Ragnor, and they both raise their eyebrows approvingly. Magnus, of course, doesn't need any confirmation from anyone else about just how amazing Clary is, but he still preens on her behalf.

"Well, she is pretty," Alec admits. He sounds reluctant, but sincere. "I guess."

Jace hums in enthusiastic agreement.

"Her friend is..." He trails off, as though searching for the word, and Magnus can imagine him gesturing in the meantime. "Interesting," Jace eventually settles on, pointedly.

"Who, that Bane guy?" Alec says, and as he does, Magnus is hit with a wave of intrigued surprise. _Does Alec like men?_ Interesting. The assumption could be wrong, of course, but Jace's tone implies that that's why he's mentioning it. "He's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

He sounds almost disdainful as he says it, as though Jace's mere suggestion is laughable, and Magnus's intrigue immediately shifts to offended annoyance. He straightens a little where he stands, reluctantly affected by it.

"Some people are into that," Jace says neutrally, and Magnus can hear a shrug in his voice.

"Yeah, well not me," Alec says in a bored tone. He pauses, as though sipping a drink. "Come on, we've got people to talk to."

Jace groans, clearly not happy to be reminded of the apparently more strategic than social reason for them being here tonight, but he still goes with his brother as he walks away. Ragnor puts a hand on Magnus's arm when they're gone, making him meet his gaze.

"Don't listen to him," Ragnor says. He doesn't sound soothing or comforting, but rather annoyed and business-like, instead. Magnus appreciates it. "He clearly has no taste, and no eye for fashion." He downs his drink, then glances at it. "Oh, look. All out. Let's get some more."

His antics are enough to make Magnus's mouth curve up in a smile, and he gladly goes with Ragnor as he grabs Magnus's arm and drags him away from the corner.

 

When Magnus is dragged back to socialize with the Lightwoods, some time later, he doesn't go very willingly. But Clary insists, and so he ends up there again once Simon's performance is over, the small group now surrounding a standing table and nursing some drinks.

"Can you believe I used to write him love songs?" Simon says, in the middle of regaling the story of how he and Raphael got together. Then his expression turns lamenting. "And he still wouldn't go out with me."

"I did eventually, didn't I?" Raphael says, a little grumpily, clearly not too happy about being the center of attention like this.

"Yeah, after like, ten songs," Simon says. "I spent all my creative juices on you, and it barely worked."

"Please don't ever say a sentence like that again," Raphael says flatly, and Magnus snickers into his drink.

"Izzy was like that, too," Lydia says, and Jace smiles where he stands, Clary pressed rather close against his side. "I used to work at the Chicago branch of Lightwood Enterprises, and we met at some event thing, almost a year ago. We both agreed that long-distance wasn't a good idea, but she still kept wooing me with her songs. How was I supposed to resist?"

She adds it with a small shrug, but the warmth in her voice makes Magnus smile.

"So you still live in Chicago, or...?" Clary asks, trailing off, and Lydia shakes her head.

"I moved here a few weeks ago," she says. "We wanted to give our relationship a real shot, and we figured that would be easier to do if I'm here. So I relocated. Just bad timing that she had to go on tour, right now."

"Why not go with her?" Clary asks, but before Lydia can reply, Jace cuts in.

"Oh, no," he says, shaking his head. "She's way too busy, she practically runs our whole department."

"I wouldn't have to, if you did your job," Lydia says, and Jace makes a noise of mock-offense. "I'm serious, you're lucky I'm dating your sister, she gives me the strength to put up with your crap."

Alec surprises everyone by emitting a soft chuckle, smiling slightly as he keeps his eyes averted. No one seems to linger on it for more than a moment, but Magnus can't help but frown.

"Well, if you ever need someone to show you around New York," Clary says. "I'd be happy to help."

Lydia looks surprised at the offer, but pleasantly so.

"That would be great, actually," she says, her small smile betraying some relief. "I'm still trying to get settled in properly. And these two are always too busy to help out."

She gives both Alec and Jace a pointed glare, and while Alec doesn't reply, Jace just gives an innocent shrug.

"Well, making sacrifices for love," Simon says happily. "I'll drink to that." He raises his glass and takes a sip, pulling Raphael closer against his side. "And I guess the consensus here is at least that love songs are always the way to go."

He presses a kiss to Raphael's lips, and Magnus tilts his head with a thoughtful hum.

"Well," he says, unable to resist.

"Well, what?" Clary says.

"I mean, love songs are great," Magnus admits lightly. "But stringing a few pretty words together does seem a bit unoriginal when everyone does it."

Simon shoves him lightly in offense, and Magnus can't help but laugh.

"Then what do you suggest?" Magnus is taken completely by surprise when he realizes that it's Alec who's speaking, and he turns to him. The guy's expression is neutral, but seems genuinely curious.

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus says, swirling his drink around in his glass. He shrugs. "I suppose I'm more a fan of showing and not telling. I'd much prefer someone showing interest in what I like and who I am, than comparing my eyes to the night sky, and whatnot." He gestures airily, then hesitates. He suddenly can't seem to stop himself, the memory of the Lightwoods' overheard conversation bubbling to the surface. "I think most people can appreciate that. Even if some of us are a bit over the top."

He lets his gaze linger on Alec's for half a second, before he quickly downs the last of his drink. He swears he just saw the tiniest glint of startled realization in Alec's expression, and that petty victory is enough to make Magnus feel like his comment was worth it. He takes a breath.

"I'm going to get another drink," he says with a smile, before unceremoniously turning around and leaving the small group behind.

 

* * *

 

It's another couple of weeks before Magnus hears much more about the Lightwoods―which is somehow impressive, since Clary has become quite smitten with one of them. But aside from the occasional giggling at her phone and insistence that it's 'nothing' whenever someone asks, she has actually managed to keep these developments mostly to herself.

Until today, that is, when Magnus returns from his lunch break and is met by Clary practically attacking him as soon as he enters the bakery.

"Guess what," she says, all smiles and bright eyes, leaning against the counter. Magnus frowns, pulls back a little as he makes his way over and grabs his _Fairchild's_ apron from its hook, right inside the door leading to the kitchen.

"Did Mariah Carey stop by?" he asks, suspicion lacing his tone. "Because you know I'd never forgive you if you made me miss out on witnessing her diva antics, in person."

"Sadly, no," Clary says. She glances around the café area. The lunch rush has just ended, and while there are some patrons seated at the tables, there are none in immediate need of service. She turns back to Magnus. "I talked to Jace."

Magnus's eyes widen in shock.

"Oh, my," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "That is indeed groundbreaking. Tell me _everything._ "

He puts the apron on, and Clary whips him lightly with a towel in her hand.

"It was business-related," she says, and Magnus's interest is reluctantly piqued.

"Well?" he says, when Clary doesn't elaborate, and her smile turns into a grin.

"Apparently," she says, "Lightwood Enterprises is hosting a charity thing, like a get-to-know-the-neighborhood kind of deal. And Fairchild's has officially been hired for catering."

Magnus doesn't immediately respond, instead just stares at Clary in legitimate surprise.

"That's," he eventually starts, rubbing his fingers together in thought, "unexpected."

Clary's shoulders drop.

"Wow, you're quick to judge, aren't you," she says flatly, and Magnus frowns in slight offense.

"Am not," he says, tying the apron that's still just hanging around his neck. It's really not his color, but he can't really bring himself to demand a custom one. He spends most of his time here unseen in the back room, anyway. "I'm just surprised."

"And happy?" Clary prompts.

"Obviously," Magnus says, and he means it. "It's always nice to have our genius recognized. Where's the event?"

"Not sure," Clary says. "Some local art gallery. Jace said they'd email the specifics later today."

Magnus makes an impressed noise.

"So they're flattering _and_ efficient," he says. "Who knew?"

Clary sighs.

"Stop it," she says.

"No, don't get me wrong," Magnus says. "I'm happy they hired our particular expertise. But that doesn't mean I have to like them."

"Would you stop it?" Clary says, but she sounds fondly tired, rather than annoyed. "They're not the devil. They even came to Simon's gig, remember?"

Clary adds it pointedly, and Magnus hums.

"Right," he says. "And much like that did, this event looks like a way to butter up the locals."

Clary gives him a tired look.

"They're trying," she says. "Which is pretty great. Not to mention smart, business-wise. And they're really not that bad."

"You only say that because you're crushing on the blond one," Magnus says, but aside from Clary's small smirk, she doesn't argue. She does retaliate, however.

"Wouldn't hurt for _you_ to find someone to crush on," she says, pressing the tip of her finger against the spot between Magnus's eyebrows, before noticing a table that has just been abandoned by a pair of customers. "You're getting old, you're running out of time."

Magnus gasps in offense, but Clary just giggles as she makes her way around the counter. Magnus, meanwhile, self-consciously rubs the spot she poked, making a mental note of double-checking that no lines or wrinkles have shown up since he checked this morning.

"I am a spry young man of thirty-two," he says confidently. "And I've seen enough of the cesspool of dating to realize that I will only ever really commit to true love. Which is why I'll most likely remain single forever."

He says it lightly, without bitterness, but said bitterness is still annoyingly present beneath the surface.

"Sure," Clary says. It's just one word, but it's filled with knowing, teasing wisdom, and Magnus looks up at her. "I'm sure Jace has some hot friends, though. Or maybe a brother."

She raises her eyebrows pointedly, tilting her head at him as she gathers up the discarded plates and cups from the small table. Magnus gives her a dubious look.

"Please," he says. "Alec Lightwood is like an actual stick in the mud, personified."

Clary shakes her head innocently.

"I didn't say anything," she says.

"You implied," Magnus says.

"Not my fault your pride is so easily wounded, that one evening makes you hate the guy forever," Clary says dramatically, making her way back around the counter, carrying the dirty dishes. Magnus's mouth falls open in a soft, affronted noise at the sheer gall of his friend's comments today. He goes over various possible responses for a moment, before settling on nothing.

"Whatever," he says, turning around. "Get to work."

He does his best to ignore Clary's laughter behind him as he heads into the back room, and is instead welcomed by a flat look from Raphael.

While Magnus is partial to making sweet, edible things look pretty as well as taste delicious, Raphael is the more practical type. That's not to say he doesn't put just as much effort into his craft―his craft is just more about bread, than pastries.

Magnus can't help but roll his eyes, albeit with some fondness, when Clary  makes a happy noise from the café area, no doubt in response to a Jace-related text. Raphael sees it, and he meets Magnus's eye.

"She thinks she's being subtle," he says, and Magnus _tsk_ s at him.

"Easy," he says. "You were pretty bad when you and Simon started dating.

"I was never like _that_ ," Raphael says, pointing in Clary's general direction with a flour-covered hand.

"You were," Magnus assures him, while bringing out the ingredients he needs to prepare the custard for tomorrow's chocolate éclairs. "In your own way."

Raphael grumbles something under his breath, and Magnus can't help but chuckle.

"By the way," Raphael says after a moment, his voice taking on a more serious tone. The difference is subtle, but after knowing him for so long, Magnus has learned to pick up on it. "I talked to Ragnor. Guess who's back in town." Magnus frowns to himself, but Raphael thankfully doesn't leave him hanging. "Camille."

A cold pit of surprise settles in Magnus's stomach, and he freezes in mid-motion at the mention of his ex, inhales deeply.

"Shouldn't be a problem," he says, with much more confidence than he probably has.

"Sure," Raphael says. "Just thought I'd give you a heads-up. You know how she likes to stir shit up when she can."

Magnus inclines his head with an eyebrow-raise, not one to forget about that woman's proclivities anytime soon.

"Much appreciated," he says. There's a certain lightness to his tone, but he knows Raphael can discern the sincerity. "How lucky we are to have Ragnor keep a lookout for us."

Raphael emits a soft grunt of agreement.

"Not saying Camille is the reason I left the riveting world of real estate," he says dryly. "But another while, and she would have been. I don't know how he does it."

Magnus nods solemnly. While Ragnor doesn't work for Camille's company, they do cross paths now and then through shared channels, and it's more than Magnus could imagine handling. Raphael, however, used to be something of Camille's right hand, and through all the years he has known Raphael, Magnus never quite expected him to give up crisp suits and big paychecks for the humble life of a baker. Although, in hindsight, he realizes that it has somehow always suited the guy. It seems to genuinely make him happy.

Magnus makes his way past Raphael to get to the vanilla beans, and swiftly dips his fingers in the flour sitting next to the dough Raphael is working on, on his way back.

"Well, we're all glad you left," he says lightly, before petting Raphael's cheek and covering it in flour, earning a murderous glare from his friend.

" _Dios_ , I hate you so much," he mutters, and Magnus grins as he gets back to his own work.

"Sure you do."

 

* * *

 

Magnus's next encounter with Lightwood Enterprises ends up not even being with a Lightwood; it's with a Branwell, as Lydia comes by the bakery one afternoon to meet up with Clary.

Clary is just getting off her shift, as is Magnus, and Lydia is visibly relieved when she enters through the front door and sees them both there.

"Oh, thank god," she says. "My sense of direction isn't the greatest. If it weren't for the giant logo outside, I probably wouldn't have found this place."

She gestures at the big windows facing the busy street, both of which have _Fairchild's_ plastered over them in white letters, complete with the signature butterfly wings.

"Well, I'm glad you made it," Clary says, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and letting it fall loose over her shoulders. She teases it with her fingers, shaking out any stress, as well as stray flour, that may have settled there over the course of the day.

"Of course," Lydia says, approaching the counter. "Thanks for offering." She turns to Magnus, who is in the middle of putting on his lace-patterned jacket. "Hi, Magnus."

She smiles genuinely, and Magnus returns it.

"Hello, my dear," he says. "It's so nice to see you again."

Lydia looks almost bashful at the sincerity, before she directs her attention at Clary.

"You ready to go?" she asks, and Clary nods. Lydia turns back to Magnus. "Clary has taken it upon herself to show me around the city, today.  Make me feel more at home."

"Intriguing," Magnus says, remembering that Clary made such an offer, the night they met. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Just the usual spots," Clary says airily, with the tone of someone only slightly modest about their good taste in sightseeing. "You know, showing off New York's soul, make her never wanna leave."

She nods at Lydia, who laughs.

"We'll see about that," she says. "Most of what I've seen so far has been the inside of cabs, subway trains, and office buildings."

"You poor creature," Magnus says solemnly, shaking his head.

"I know, right?" Clary sounds almost genuinely sad as she agrees. Then she nudges Magnus's arm. "Hey, you should come."

Magnus opens his mouth to reply, but then just ends up sighing.

"No, I don't want to intrude," he says, tempted by the offer but also tired enough to just lie down and not move for a few hours. Maybe he is getting old.

"No, please," Lydia assures him with a smile. "The more the merrier. If you're not busy, of course."

Magnus considers it for another moment, weighs his options of going home and taking a nap, or joining these two on their small excursion in the beautiful weather. Despite his fatigue, the choice turns out to be an easy one, and he smiles.

"Then, I would love to."

 

On her own, Clary definitely has a few good suggestions when it comes to spots worth visiting in New York, especially around their neighborhood. With Magnus's additions, they soon have a lovely afternoon planned, and Magnus finds himself quite enjoying it. Lydia also seems increasingly convinced that New York indeed is a place she'd like to stay, and Magnus is glad she feels that relocating here may have been worth it.

Lydia is pleasant to be around, that much is certain, and the way she gushes about her absent girlfriend is enough to make anyone smile. The one-eighty she does when receiving a work call an hour or so into their outing is therefore impressive, as she goes from light-hearted to all-business in a matter of seconds. Whoever is calling clearly isn't about to be convinced by her repeated insistence that this is her time off, and Clary and Magnus wait patiently as Lydia ends the call. Lydia sighs.

"They need me at the office," she says apologetically. "I'm sorry, it can't wait."

"Anything big?" Clary asks, and Lydia shakes her head.

"No," she says. "I just need to come in and help out with something. We're still getting things in order, it's a mess. But it shouldn't take too long."

Clary shrugs.

"Then, we could just wait," she says, glancing at Magnus. He nods in agreement.

"Oh, you really don't have to," Lydia hurries to say, but Magnus cuts her off.

"Nonsense," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "In fact, we might as well finally see the inside of that towering neighborhood intrusion."

Clary throws her head back with a groan at the comment, but Lydia takes it in stride, and has no objections at all to bringing them along on her errand.

It has been almost a month since Lightwood Enterprises started setting up in the neighborhood, and Magnus is honestly a little surprised by how quickly they've moved things along. Unless you make it past the lobby and the elevator of the office building, you'd never guess that the place is still a work in progress, given how polished and organized everything looks. It's only when they ride up to a higher floor that Magnus even notices the slight disarray still present, and he and Clary both stay close to Lydia as she leads them out of the elevator.

Magnus does not blame Raphael for a second, for leaving this type of setting for the far more quaint atmosphere a bakery provides. There's something so rigid about an office space, so sleek and practical, and while Magnus supposes he can appreciate the aesthetic of it, he can't imagine working here.

There's a rather open area immediately outside the elevator, almost like a waiting room, with hallways and doors leading off in different directions. People are scurrying back and forth, and Magnus can see what Lydia means about still getting things in order.

It's when Magnus recognizes a particular figure that he starts half-regretting coming here, after all. Jace is in the middle of talking to a few people, all of them seemingly having converged in this open space before heading off in different directions, and Magnus remembers a mention of Jace and Lydia working in the same department. That doesn't explain why Alec is also here, though. It doesn't explain why he's part of the small group discussing whatever documents Jace is holding, somehow blending in and simultaneously standing out from all the suits.

It's Jace that spots them first―Magnus, Clary, and Lydia―and after a flash of surprise crosses his face, it lights up with a grin. It's only when Clary grins back that Magnus realizes this must be why Clary thought tagging along to this place would be a good idea. She was obviously hoping to bump into Jace, and he supposes he can't blame her.

"Hey," Jace says, lowering the documents and folders in his hand, before handing them off to the others standing with him. They thank him and leave, and as they do, Alec looks up as well. His expression is one of sheer surprise at the sight of Lydia's entourage, more surprise than Magnus would have expected―the guy somehow looks like he was caught red-handed, and Magnus can't imagine why. It doesn't help that his gaze hardens when it meets Magnus's, as he, Lydia, and Clary approach.

"Hey, guys," Lydia says, but she doesn't get much further than that.

"Why are you here?" Alec suddenly asks. His attention is still on Magnus, and while it's obvious he's referring to both him and Clary, it makes Magnus bristle; if not for the underlying confusion, Alec would have sounded incredibly offended by Magnus's mere presence. That said, Magnus still finds it in _him_ to be offended, and he frowns, opening his mouth to reply, before Lydia thankfully beats him to it.

"Calm down," she says to Alec tiredly. "They're not trespassing." Alec presses his lips together in a disapproving expression, while Lydia turns back to Magnus and Clary. "I'll just be a minute. Please, have a seat."

Clary gives her a smile, and Lydia returns it, before throwing her sullen co-worker another glance and walking away.

The silence she leaves behind is oddly tense. No one does, in fact, take a seat, and a few seconds of darting glances between Magnus, Jace, Clary, and Alec follow. It's not long before Jace's and Clary's find each other, though, and Magnus almost shakes his head at the way their expressions soften within moments.

"So, uh," Jace says. "How you been?"

While he's addressing both Magnus and Clary, it's obvious he's really only asking one of them, and Magnus suppresses a smile at how this apparently suave guy is reduced to a sweet idiot in no time flat, where Clary is concerned.

"Good," Clary says, clearly trying not to smile too wide, but failing miserably. Magnus hears a tiny sigh, and his attention goes to Alec, whose eyes are averted in a restrained eyeroll.

"Something wrong, Mr. Lightwood?" Magnus asks before he can stop himself, and Alec turns to him, well-hidden surprise on his face.

"Wow," Jace says with a chuckle. "No one calls him that. At least, no one who doesn't report to him."

Magnus hums in thought, eyes still on Alec.

"Alexander, then," he says, and while he doesn't want to be a petty child about it, he will admit that the slightly astonished and somehow affronted look on the man's face is satisfying. But he's not being petty. At all.

Jace chuckles again, this time a little louder.

"No one calls him that, either," he says, blatantly amused by the situation.

"Well, sometime has to be the first," Magnus says, and Clary suppresses a snort.

"What do you want, exactly?" Alec asks tightly. Magnus gives an innocent shrug.

"Nothing," he says. "Just waiting for a friend."

As he says it, the sound of Lydia exiting an office and making her way back down the hall can be heard, but Magnus still makes sure to keep his gaze locked with Alec's. It's like a dare, and it's not until Alec looks away that Magnus does.

"Alright," Lydia says as she approaches the small group. "I just need to sign something, and we'll be good to go."

Magnus gives her a small smile, while Jace and Clary take the opportunity of her arrival to talk more privately. They speak in hushed tones, making plans to get together sometime later in the week, and Magnus politely doesn't listen in.

"Hey, did you talk to Izzy?" Lydia asks Alec, who nods.

"Yeah," he says. He slowly moves his arms behind his back as he speaks, folding his hands together, and Magnus must admit that it emphasizes his posture in a rather appealing way. The suit he's wearing is nice, too―black pants with a rough-patterned, gray jacket. It looks good on him. Professional, but somehow a lot less boring than Magnus would have expected. "She won't be able to make it."

Alec's voice softens slightly as he says it, and it contrasts sharply with his attitude from just moments ago. Meanwhile, Lydia's shoulders drop a little.

"Makes sense, I guess," she says. "Can't exactly expect her to fly in from Pittsburgh, just for one night."

It takes Magnus a moment to put it together, before he recalls what was said about Isabelle, the night he first met these people.

"She's still on tour?" he asks, and both Lydia and Alec turn to him.

"She is," Lydia confirms, while Alec looks mildly surprised that Magnus remembered. "She wanted to come to the event next week, for moral support, but I already knew her schedule wouldn't exactly allow it."

She says it with a small smile, equal parts fond and disappointed.

"She works hard," Alec says, and there's a definite note of pride in his voice.

"Yeah," Lydia says with a sigh. "Sometimes too hard, if you ask me."

"Work is overrated," Magnus says airily, and Lydia raises her eyebrows at him.

"Oh?" she asks. "So you're saying you just happened to end up where you are?"

She says it jokingly, almost challengingly, and Magnus inclines his head.

"Fair enough," he admits. "Long days, nights, and thousands of failed attempts, just to get the privilege of making treats for a living. I used to not even be able to tell the difference between a macaron and a macaroon, but now, here we are."

He shrugs, and Lydia laughs.

"Not gonna lie," she says, "I didn't even know there was a difference."

Magnus puts on an expression of slight outrage.

"Don't make me question this friendship, already," he says.

"I'm sorry, I was always too busy studying to enjoy things," Lydia laments. She turns to Alec, nudges him gently with her elbow. It's such a familial gesture that it feels somehow odd seeing it used with someone like him, someone so stiff. "Much like this guy."

Alec turns to her.

"Paid off, didn't it?" he says. "Wouldn't be here, otherwise."

Somehow, his words send a tiny surge of annoyance through Magnus's nerves.

 "Well, not everyone can have a fancy degree," he says under his breath, before he can stop himself. Alec catches it.

"No," Alec agrees, "but that doesn't make your skills worthless." While it's clear he means the collective _you_ , Magnus still somehow takes it personally. "It's about working hard, being dedicated. It's what you do that matters, not what's on paper."

Magnus presses his lips together. Suddenly, he vehemently regrets just mentioning how he got to where he is, career-wise. He somehow doesn't want any kind of association with what Alec Lightwood would classify as worthwhile and admirable, no matter how much he himself agrees with it.

Lydia observes the sudden, albeit slight tension for a few moments. Clary and Jace are still in their own world, right next to them, apparently oblivious to the current conversation, and Lydia takes a breath.

"Alec," she says, turning to her co-worker and friend. "You wanna join us, this afternoon? Magnus and Clary are showing me around the city, and I'm sure you'd have some good suggestions of your own."

Magnus tenses up, but Alec―thankfully―immediately declines the offer.

"No," he says, almost too quickly. "I've got plans."

"Ah, right," Lydia says with a sigh, nodding. "Meetings and dealing with board members. How fun."

"Yeah," Alec says. "Good thing I'm the one who has to deal with it, and not you."

"I'd feel sorry for you if you weren't so good at it."

"One of us has to be," Alec says, and Lydia gasps dramatically. Jace overhears the comment, and he chuckles to himself while Lydia turns to Magnus, an affronted look on her face.

"I'm just supposed to take that?" she says, and Magnus shrugs as Jace goes back to his conversation with Clary.

"We could always laugh at him," he suggests lightly, and the sharp glance Alec throws his way is not lost on him.

"No, we mustn't tease Alec," Lydia says, her tone full of such teasing, in itself. Magnus tilts his head in thought, a small smile on his face as he turns to Alec.

"Too proud, Alexander?" he says, while Lydia's smile widens. "And would you say that's a good, or bad thing?"

"I don't know," Alec says, his tone even.

"Because there must be _some_ fault in you," Magnus says, narrowing his eyes conspiringly.

"Maybe it's that I have a low tolerance for bullshit," Alec says, and the bluntness of the comment, as well as his steady gaze, takes Magnus slightly by surprise.

"He's big on loyalty," Lydia chimes in, and Magnus turns to her. "Screwing him over is generally a bad idea, he won't let it go."

Alec glances at her with a slow inhale, as though asking her not to over-share on his behalf, and Magnus hums.

"Well," he says, "I can't really tease you about that, can I?" He turns to Alec. "Shame. I like a good laugh."

Alec's expression is unreadable as he holds his gaze, but the standoff doesn't last more than a second, or two; a young man approaches Lydia with a thin stack of papers in his hand, gently interrupting the conversation.

"Miss Branwell," he says, holding the papers out to her. "Got the orders you wanted."

"Thank you, Raj," Lydia says, accepting the pen he hands her to sign whatever it is she needs to sign. Magnus deliberately avoids Alec's eyes in the meantime, instead turning to Clary, who seems to have pulled herself together and politely turned her attention back to the group, rather than just Jace. Suddenly, Magnus can't wait to get out of here, and away from Alec Lightwood. It's an abrupt impulse, and he can't put his finger on where it came from.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait very long.

"Right," Lydia says, and Raj gives her a nod, before leaving. Lydia turns and smiles at her waiting companions. "All good."

Magnus makes sure to politely say goodbye to both Jace and Alec as they leave, and while he playfully tugs Clary along under the guise of teasing her for her infatuation, he will admit that he really can't get out of there fast enough.

As he steps into the elevator, and the doors close, he catches one last glimpse of Jace's grinning face, as well as Alec's scowl.

 

* * *

 

"Why do I feel like I spend all my free time watching Sheldon perform, these days?" Magnus says, sipping his cappuccino.

"Because Champagne Enema―" Clary starts, before cutting herself off with a sigh― "sorry, Rock Solid Panda―is a visionary band that needs all the support it can get."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that the two of us usually make up about a fourth of the entire audience?" Magnus says, gesturing around the sparsely populated coffee shop. He may be exaggerating more than a little―there are at least thirty people, in here―but still. He spots Raphael talking to Simon and another man over by the stage, and he cocks his head. "Well, us and his ever-devoted boyfriend."

"Be as snarky as you want," Clary says, sipping her latte. "You know you love us."

Magnus glances at her. Clary's eyes are on Simon, on the other side of the room, so she can't see Magnus's currently sappy expression. He smiles.

"That, I do," he admits. While they don't often talk about it, he knows Clary is well aware of just how much his found-family means to him, especially since he has no biological family left to speak of.

Simon has just gotten off the small stage, and it's still only late afternoon. Magnus and Clary make their way over to him, just as Raphael leaves for what Magnus assumes must be a bathroom break, and Simon lights up when he sees them approach. There's a middle-aged man standing next to him, with a shaved head and a friendly face.

"Guys," Simon says. "Thanks for coming."

Clary tilts her head.

"It's nice that you say that as though we have a choice," she says, but Simon just makes a face.

"I'm surprised there's not a bigger turnout," says the stranger standing with Simon. "The music has a kind of soul to it that you don't often hear, these days."

"Well, you're not wrong," Magnus says, and the man chuckles. He holds out his hand.

"Valentine Morgenstern," he says, and Magnus shakes his hand, as well as Clary. "Circle Records. We've had our eye on some of the local talent for a while, and I must say that this young man and his band indeed have something special going on."

Magnus gives Simon an impressed look.

"Oh, we already knew that," Clary says with a smile, and Simon looks pleased, albeit self-conscious, in response to the attention.

They talk for a minute, the conversation polite and pleasant, and Magnus finds that Simon's new fan is quick to a smile and showering compliments. It's a nice diversion, and when a different, familiar voice is heard a little further away, Magnus isn't sure he would have even noticed if Clary didn't react.

"Clary!" Magnus looks over his shoulder as Clary does, and is more than a little surprised to see Jace approaching the group, Alec at his side. Clary lights right up.

"Jace," she says, grinning with obvious, pleased surprise written all over her face.

"Hey," Jace says, putting his hand on her waist, to which Clary responds by easily shifting closer to him and pressing a chaste kiss of greeting to his lips. Jace looks up at Simon. "How was the gig?"

"It was good," Simon says, nodding. He's clearly as surprised as Clary at seeing Jace there, but even more so at him actually asking how the gig went.

"I may have told him it was happening, and where," Clary says, turning to Jace. "You didn't have come all the way here, though," she adds, though it's obvious how happy she is that he did. "You know it's okay if you can't make it."

"I wanted to," Jace says easily. "We had some stuff to do around here, anyway, so I talked Alec into stopping by."

He nods at his brother, and Magnus glances at him. Alec does indeed look very unhappy about being here, and his hands are folded behind his back in that way that makes him almost look like soldier, rather than a businessman. Magnus can't help but wonder if this guy ever even smiles.

"Well, I'm glad you did," Clary says, even giving Alec an appreciative glance, to which he doesn't respond. Instead, his eyes briefly pass over Magnus, as though deliberately avoiding him, and then land on someone else; Valentine. Valentine, in response, gives the newcomers a smile, but to Alec in particular, Magnus notices. It's not a friendly expression, but not threatening, instead falls somewhere in between. It's enough to catch Magnus's attention, and he turns his gaze back to the oldest Lightwood, whose mouth has  now set into a hard line. He doesn't reply, and Simon blinks, a little surprised at the sudden coldness that settles over the group, while Clary and Jace are still casually standing with their arms around each other.

"Oh," Simon says. "Uh, this is Val―"

Alec does something unexpected then, even for him, and simply turns around and walk away. He leaves a tense silence in his wake, and Jace looks after him, before turning back to the group with a slightly awkward chuckle.

"I should actually go, too," he says. "We've got a lot of work to do, and I really just wanted to say hi. But it was nice seeing you guys."

He looks at Simon, then Magnus, and skips over Valentine entirely, before turning around and following his brother. Clary gives an apologetic smile, before following, as well. Simon then looks awkwardly between his departing friends and Magnus, before turning back to Valentine. He looks like he's about to say something, when someone calls his name from across the room. Magnus looks over and recognizes the person as Simon's band mate Maureen, who's waving at Simon to come over. Simon hesitates.

"I, uh―" he says, clearly thrown off by the sudden and highly noticeable shift in mood. "I'll be right back, I just gotta―"

He gestures toward the stage, and Valentine gives him a good-natured smile. You'd never guess that he was having a staring contest with Alec, just seconds ago.

"Of course," he says, and Simon leaves. Magnus watches him go, before he notices Valentine eyeing the front door, through which the Lightwoods just left. Magnus frowns, follows his gaze.

"If I may ask," he says carefully, turning back to Valentine. "How do you know Alec, exactly? I just noticed some tension."

He gestures airily, and Valentine doesn't seem surprised nor offended by the question.

"That obvious, hm?" he says lightly. "It's a long story. I have some history with that whole family, actually."

Magnus senses the apprehensiveness in his tone, and shakes his head.

"You don't have to―" he says.

"No, no," Valentine interrupts gently, with a sad smile. "It's fine." He sighs. "I used to work with his parents, Maryse and Robert Lightwood. We were friends, actually. We built the groundwork for their company together, way back. But when it came to it, they claimed all the credit for themselves, and I never saw a penny of the fortune they managed to obtain."

Magnus frowns in some kind of offended surprise.

"Why would they do that?" he asks, but he can't say he's truly surprised. Valentine shrugs.

"Jealousy?" he suggests. "Threatened by my success, perhaps? I always was the driving force behind the endeavors, that's no secret. I suppose they couldn't handle it. And ever since their eldest son took over some of the responsibilities, he's been blocking me at every turn." Valentine is wearing a carefree expression, although his voice takes on a note of bitterness at the end. "It's a shame, but none of the Lightwoods have ever been particularly good to me."

He sips his drink, and Magnus frowns as he mulls over Valentine's words. It seems that he just keeps having his first impressions about Alec Lightwood confirmed, left and right.

Valentine sighs, bringing Magnus out of his thoughts.

"It seems I have to go," he says, glancing at his watch. "But do me a favor, and give this to Mr. Lewis, would you?"

He hands Magnus a business card, and Magnus nods.

"Sure," he says, and Valentine smiles. There's something salesman-like about it, and Magnus isn't certain if that's a good thing, or not.

"Excellent," Valentine says. "Thank you, Mr. Bane. It was nice meeting you. Have a good night."

"You, too."

Magnus watches him go, a small frown still on his face.

He's distracted from his thoughts when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He brings it out, and answers once he recognizes the caller ID.

"Why, good afternoon, boss," he says cheerily, and he can hear Jocelyn huff a tired laugh on the other end.

"Hi, Magnus," she says. "You got a minute?"

"Of course," Magnus says, glancing over at the door and seeing Clary re-enter the coffee shop. It seems that the Lightwoods have been seen off. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's more a matter of _not_ doing," Jocelyn says, with the slightest hesitation. She sounds a little distracted, and Magnus can imagine she's in the middle of working, as they speak. It wouldn't be too unlike her. "I need you to take tomorrow morning off."

Magnus frowns in surprise.

"What?" he asks. "Why?"

"Because you've got the event tomorrow night," Jocelyn says. "And you could use some time off."

Magnus keeps frowning, confused.

"You also have the event, tomorrow night," he points out. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"Magnus." Jocelyn sounds tired, but not annoyed. "Just take the morning off. We got this."

Magnus pauses.

"Are you sure?" he asks dubiously, and Jocelyn makes a sound of assent.

"Just come by for the last minute stuff," she says. "We'll manage till then."

Magnus hesitates for a few seconds, tilts his head. It's obvious that there's something else at play, but he decides against bringing it up, right now. Clearly, Jocelyn isn't ready to tell him, just yet.

"Alright," he eventually says. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then."

Jocelyn sighs, clearly relieved.

"Sounds good," she says. Magnus can hear a smile in her voice.

"Thanks," he says.

"Don't worry about it."

Jocelyn hangs up, and Magnus pulls the phone away from his ear, frowns at it. It's not the first time Jocelyn has asked him to skip a shift―usually it's her way of forcing him to slow down, once in a while―but this time, it feels different. She seemed weighed down by something.

"Hey, where'd Valentine go?" Simon's voice snaps Magnus out of his musings, and he turns to him.

"He had to leave," Magnus says, pocketing his phone. "But he asked me to give you this."

He hands Simon the sleek business card Valentine gave him, and Simon accepts it, eyes widening.

"He gave me his card," he says.

"He did," Magnus confirms calmly.

"This could be great for me," Simon continues, obviously excited, but trying to rein it in. "I mean, for the band. Obviously. And it might not even lead anywhere, anyway. But I just got scouted, man." He smacks Magnus's chest lightly, and Magnus glances down with a raised eyebrow, which Simon ignores. "If we had an actual label, it would make a huge difference. I could―"

"Yes," Magnus says with a fond smile he can't quite help, cutting off Simon's rambling. "There's lots of potential, I'm very happy for you."

"Where's Clary?" Simon says, looking around the crowded room. He then spots her, and his face lights up. "Clary! You gotta see this―"

He goes off to tell her the good news, and Magnus soon follows close behind, glad to see his friend so happy.

 

* * *

 

While Magnus undoubtedly has something of a workaholic streak, even he must admit that having some time off feels good, once in a while. That said, his habit of going to work at six a.m., and sometimes even earlier, has him awake and out of bed around dawn, even on days off. And he's not exactly one for wasting time, which is how he ends up on a morning run, just as the sun is rising.

There are a few routes in the neighborhood that work just fine. Magnus is partial to the more scenic ones, leading through a small park and along its winding paths, and so that is where he goes.

There is something particular about the air at dawn, the dewy chill clearing Magnus's head and settling over his face. It's still summer, though, so his thin, long sleeves are more than enough to keep him comfortably warm.

He's about halfway through his planned route, when something catches his attention. He's not even wearing any headphones, preferring to listen to the stillness instead, and it allows him to particularly notice the very few people around him. There are only two other runners on this path at the moment, but he swears one of them is familiar, the one further off. Magnus frowns, chest heaving as he slows down, and he stops completely in order to get a better look. It's only then that he realizes why he recognizes the tall frame and dark hair of the runner in question, and he straightens a little where he stands.

What are the odds that Alec Lightwood has the same running route as he does, not to mention at six a.m.? At least Magnus lives around here, while this guy seems to have no business in this area, whatsoever.

Except for that office building, that is, the one near Fairchild's. The one Alec is partially in charge of, as of a few weeks ago. Obviously. Magnus closes his eyes, suddenly annoyed.

_Damn it._

He doesn't keep staring. Instead, he just sighs in frustration and simply turns onto a different path and keeps running. Thankfully, Alec seems to not have noticed him from this distance, and it allows Magnus to escape unnoticed, while that frustrating Lightwood continues to head in the other direction.

 

* * *

 

"I don't know," Clary says doubtfully, shaking her head as she dips an éclair in chocolate and carefully lines it up on a tray, next to the others. "Doesn't sound like them."

Magnus raises his eyebrows, confused by her response, even after she just heard what Magnus was told by Valentine.

"You never think badly of anyone, do you?" Magnus says, and Clary shrugs.

"What can I say?" she says. "It just doesn't sound like something they'd do. Shutting someone out, like that?"

"Maybe you don't know the Lightwoods as well as you think you do," Magnus says.

He looks away just as Clary turns to him, instead directing his focus at gently sandwiching various types of filling between various-colored halves to create macarons for tonight's event. He's currently finishing  up a batch of purple ones with blueberry flavor, and he can feel Clary's eyes on him, slightly judgmental.

"I know Jace," she says. "And he wouldn't do that."

"Well, you don't know his brother," Magnus says. "Or his parents."

"Neither do you." Magnus looks up at his friend. "And sure, maybe their parents are hardasses, but that doesn't mean _they_ are. At least, not without reason."

Magnus straightens up and moves the finished tray of macarons to the other side of the kitchen, where he puts it next to yet another tray, whose macarons are lemon-flavored and sporting bright orange colors.

"If you say so," he says, and Clary gives him a look.

"Okay," she says resolutely. "How about this. Tonight isn't about dealing with the stuck-up elite, but rather about making money _and_ getting free drinks at a semi-fancy event. Also an excuse to look good."

Magnus turns to her, reluctantly intrigued by the alternative way of viewing the evening.

"I always look good," he says, and Clary smiles.

"That's the spirit," she says. She dips a spoon into the melted chocolate for the éclairs, and hands it to Magnus. "Now, treat yourself, and then let's finish up here and get going."

Magnus narrows his eyes at the chocolate-covered spoon, before he takes it.

"Damn you for knowing my weaknesses," he says, but there is no heat behind the words. Instead, he puts the spoon in his mouth, and he will admit that sneaking some delicious chocolate distracts him just enough to put him back in an excellent mood.

 

By the time they arrive at the gallery, they're pretty much the first ones there. Surprisingly though, Jace is there to meet them at the door, even if Magnus is quite sure it's more about meeting Clary than the group. Not that he's complaining. He'll admit he gets a little kick out of the upper class helping out with the physical labor, as all the baked goods are transferred from Fairchild's delivery van and into the borderline-hipster type gallery that's hosting tonight's event.

Once inside, Magnus sees for the first time which charity is at the center of it all. It's one focused on a program for at-risk youth in the area, and Magnus must admit he is surprised. It's a matter that's very close to his own heart, and he's pleased that a company like Lightwood Enterprises would go for that, rather than something PR-wise more safe, like planting trees or something.

It's a little while later, when most of the guests have arrived and all the pastries have been presented throughout the hall or placed in the kitchen, that Clary tears herself from Jace's side and approaches Magnus. She loops her arm through his, offering him a tall glass of champagne.

"Nice turnout," she says, and Magnus nods in agreement. He adjusts his black waistcoat―matched perfectly with his patterned shirt and fitted black pants―as he sweeps his eyes across the room. He's pleased to see that while all semi-formally dressed, the guests aren't just made up of the Lightwoods' peers―Clary was right when she called this a getting-to-know-the-neighborhood kind of thing. Magnus recognizes plenty of the people here from far more everyday settings than this.

"Agreed," Magnus says, sipping his drink. Clary is holding one of her own, and she halfheartedly steers Magnus across the floor.

"Looks like Morgenstern's not here," she says, with a sigh. "Too bad. He said he might show, and I know Simon was excited about it."

Magnus hums, glancing around and indeed noticing the absence of the charming man from yesterday.

"He'll live," Magnus says. "I'm more concerned about the treats running out."

He nods pointedly at a young woman greedily picking out one of every kind of pastry sitting on one of the many strategically placed tables, and Clary chuckles.

"We've got plenty of backup, don't worry," she says, humoring Magnus's concerns. "And I told you to try and enjoy this a bit."

"I'm enjoying it," Magnus says defensively. "Just being job-oriented."

It's not until a few familiar faces come into view that Magnus realizes Clary is steering him right into a conversation, and he gives her a look. She rolls her eyes.

"Come on," she says, nudging him forward. "Be the social butterfly we know you are."

Magnus refrains from pointing out that he has no issue with socializing―it's _who_ he has to socialize with that's the problem. That said, he is nothing if not pleasant and polite as he and Clary are seamlessly included into the conversation currently going on between Jocelyn, Luke, and the Lightwoods.

"I must admit, we were surprised that you chose this venue," Jocelyn says, with some apprehension. "It's a little more... indie than I thought you'd go for."

"Oh," Jace says, a little surprised. "Actually, it was―"

"It was my idea," Lydia cuts in, with a smile on her face, and everyone's attention turns to her. Magnus still catches Jace's slight frown, although the guy doesn't verbally object to Lydia's interruption. "It's a great space, and we thought it might be good to bring attention some local talent for a good cause."

Jocelyn smiles.

"Well, thank you," she says. "Everyone really appreciates it. I know we do, at least."

Lydia's smile widens, and Magnus decides that he really does like her. Alec, meanwhile, is looking down at the floor, shoulders tense as he taps the side of his glass with his fingers, and Magnus decides that he seems just as uptight as initially thought.

Despite his misgivings, Magnus would be lying if he said he wasn't having a pleasant time. The atmosphere is buzzing and happy, and there are more than a few laughs shared, and Magnus settles on the impression that at least Jace seems friendly enough. The way he looks at Clary only helps his case, and it's obvious to anyone watching than he's already completely smitten.

"I'm getting a refill," Magnus says after a while, holding up his empty glass. "Anyone?"

"I'd love some," Jocelyn says, smiling. Magnus gives her a nod, before turning around to fulfill this request, leaving the conversation behind.

It's when he's halfway across the hall that he stops dead, as someone else very familiar just entered his field of vision.

Magnus hates the fact that he can recognize her from across a room. Despite being so petite, Camille somehow makes crowds part for her where she walks, and at the moment she is walking straight toward Magnus, who tightens his jaw, but makes sure to keep his expression neutral. He manages, even as Camille gives him a charming grin.

"Magnus," she says silkily, only coming to a halt once she's standing just slightly too close to him. "How lovely to see you."

Magnus forces a polite smile.

"As always," he says tightly. Camille tilts her head, eyes him up and down while taking a sip of her drink.

"It's been a while," she says airily, and something about her tone makes Magnus's uncomfortable.

"It has," he agrees. "What are you doing here?"

Camille gives him the most innocent expression she can probably muster, perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised.

"Why, I was invited," she says, smiling. "Just like you." She looks over Magnus's shoulder, and something catches her eye. "Speaking of, I should go introduce myself to the hosts, properly. I've done business with their dear mother, after all, it's only polite."

She slips past Magnus before he can stop her, and he watches, mouth half-open with intended but unspoken words, as she approaches the small group nearby. They're too far away for him to hear what they're saying, but it's clear that there is some surprise when Camille approaches them. Not to mention, the height difference as Alec meets her eye with a small frown, is almost comical. It brings Magnus at least some petty satisfaction, but he is still suddenly very much longing for another drink.

 

Thankfully, while Magnus does see Camille on several occasions during the evening, he manages to avoid actually talking to her, which is a blessing, to say the least. She makes a few attempts to stay close to him, but seems too busy mingling and talking to any important-looking person she can find to make too much of an effort, which allows Magnus to keep to his own company and actually enjoy this whole thing. He also makes sure to keep a close eye on the various pastries on display. Everything is bite-sized, and he's pleased to see both joy and surprise among the guests at colorful sweets being served, rather than the more typical hors d'oeuvres. It may be a silly profession in many people's eyes, but he does take great pride in his work, no matter how trivial it is in the grand scheme of things.

"Why aren't there any of those little licorice tarts you make?" Ragnor asks, halfway through the evening, and Magnus rolls his eyes.

"Because they were a disgusting experiment," he says. "And no one but you even likes them."

"Don't say that," Ragnor says. "Perhaps there are more people in this very room with evolved palates, like my own."

He gestures at the crowd, and Magnus makes a revolted face.

"They tasted like detergent," he says.

"You talk about all your own creations that way?"

"No," Magnus says. "Just the disgusting ones. Because I know my limits. And I know better than to toy with dark forces."

"I'm still expecting some for my birthday," Ragnor mutters, taking a surly bite out of an éclair, as though it's some kind of sub-par consolation prize.

"Anything for you, my friend," Magnus says. He sips his drink, and is surprised when the moment is disturbed by the sudden appearance of Simon.

"Magnus, hey," he says, his tone more than a little tense. Magnus narrows his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks suspiciously.

"What?" Simon says. "Nothing is wrong. Why would anything be wrong?"

"So you just rushed over here to say 'hey'?" Magnus says, and Simon opens his mouth to answer, before closing it again and pressing his lips together. Ragnor sighs.

"I'll be getting another drink," he says, and heads off. Magnus turns back to Simon.

"What's wrong, Simon?" he asks calmly, and Simon takes a breath.

"Okay," he says. "There's been a minor mishap with the cupcakes in the kitchen." He is blatantly reluctant about delivering this news, and he raises his hand, thumb and index finger just slightly apart to emphasize his point. "Minor."

Magnus takes a breath, braces himself.

"How minor?" he asks. Simon hesitates.

"Smushed frosting, minor," he says, and Magnus sighs. _Of course._ Of course, there had to be something, some kind of hitch. "It looks like the hired help may have manhandled the boxes when putting them in the kitchen, and one of them tipped over." Magnus senses that there's more to it, and he prompts Simon with a look to continue. "And one was turned upside-down."

Magnus closes his eyes to summon patience.

"I suppose that's what you get for trusting a middle man," he says under his breath, before opening his eyes. He puts on a smile that's more for the sake of tricking himself that this is fine, than anyone else. "Very well. I'll fix it. It's not like this is the first time something like this has happened. More like, the fourth."

He purses his lips as he inhales deeply, trying not to be too annoyed with the mistakes of others, no matter how much they affect him.

"How bad is it?" Magnus asks, and Simon makes a face.

"Could be worse," he says. "It's just the frosting that's all over the place. I think they either didn't know what happened, or they just hoped we wouldn't notice. Either way, the mini cupcakes are pretty ruined."

Magnus nods. He can work with that. If it's just a matter of cleaning off the frosting and re-doing it, he can get it done in under thirty minutes. Jocelyn has the habit of bringing along spare supplies to catering jobs, so he wouldn't even have to go back to the bakery for more frosting.

"Alright," he says, with a sigh. He rubs his forehead as he gestures in a vaguely beckoning motion. "Help me organize the wreckage, will you?"

Simon blinks.

"I can't," he says. "I gotta help set up the other stuff, we're running low on the floor."

"Well, I need a hand," Magnus says, some concern spiking at the prospect of having to deal with this mess alone. "Just cleaning them up will make the whole thing take twice as long, on my own."

Simon shrugs helplessly.

"I'm sorry," he says, and he sounds like he means it. "I'm on display duty, boss's orders. Maybe Clary can―"

"I'll help." The sound of Alec's voice surprises Magnus more than anyone, and it takes Magnus a moment to even register that he's even there. Magnus turns to his right, and Alec is hovering right outside the conversation, as though he was just passing by.

"I'm sorry?" Magnus says after a moment, convinced that he misheard. But Alec doesn't falter, just keeps his expression neutral.

"I just overheard, but―" he says. "If you need a hand, I can help."

Magnus wants to say no. He doesn't want to owe this guy anything, much less have to spend any amount of time alone with him.

"No, it's fine, I―" he tries, but Simon interrupts.

"Awesome," he says with a grin. "Clary's probably busy, anyway." Magnus is pretty sure that 'busy' in this case means spending time with Jace, but he suppose he can't fault her for that, even despite the situation it puts him in. "And it's an easy job, you'll do great," Simon continues, and he claps a hand on Alec's shoulder, only to immediately pull it back when Alec gives it a pointed glare. "Right. Well, since that's covered, I'll just―"

Simon gestures in the general direction of the serving tables throughout the hall, and then unceremoniously hurries off.

Magnus is thus left alone with Alec, and he curses Simon as he walks away. He still wants to decline Alec's offer to help, but figures that he might as well accept. It's not like it's a difficult task at hand, and turning down the offer would be terribly rude, considering.

Magnus pulls himself together, and turns to Alec, who's patiently waiting for a verdict. His expression is unreadable.

"Fine," Magnus says. "You may help."

He eyes Alec up and down quickly, as though expecting to see some sign of foul play, but all he sees is a well-fitted suit covering an obviously fit body.

_And let's stop that train of thought, right there._

Alec nods, oblivious to Magnus's suspicion, and thankfully ignoring the semi-obnoxiously granted permission.

"Be right back," he says, before heading over to the nearest table to put down his half-empty glass. Ragnor almost bumps into him as he makes his way back over to Magnus, a brand new drink in his hand, and his eyebrows rise when he sees Magnus's expression.

"Problem?" he asks.

"Yes," Magnus says tightly, eyes still on Alec's back. It's a nice back, with broad shoulders that are nicely accentuated in that suit. _Stupid suit._ "But apparently Mr. Lightwood is going to aid me in fixing it."

Ragnor makes a surprised sound.

"Helpful chap," he says, sipping his drink, and Magnus hums.

"Inconvenient," he says, and Ragnor frowns at him.

"Why ever for?" he asks dryly. Magnus makes a face.

"Because I've sworn to loathe him for all eternity."

"Of course, you have," Ragnor mutters. "Drama queen."

"I don't suppose you could help―" Magnus says, turning to his friend, but Ragnor cuts him off with a raise of his finger.

"No," he says. "No work for me, tonight. Only play. For once. You can enjoy this alone time with the young man, all on your own."

Magnus glares at him, and Ragnor smoothly walks away as Alec returns.

"At least, pray for me?" Magnus calls, just loudly enough for Ragnor to hear, but Ragnor's reply is swift.

"No, shan't," he says, before disappearing into the crowd and out of view.

Magnus is still very much reluctant, albeit relieved, to accept Alec's help, even as he leads the way into the kitchen in the back area of the gallery. It's not a spacious kitchen, by any means, but then again it's not exactly intended for any major usage. It's just enough to store the pastries, and Magnus carefully places the two boxes Simon mentioned on the counter. He opens them, and takes a slow, deep breath.

"Right," he says, surveying the damage. "Let's get to work."

He thoroughly washes his hands, and dries them off as Alec follows suit, before retrieving the container of frosting brought from the bakery and scooping it into a pastry bag. Alec frowns as Magnus hands him one of the boxes, picks up a cupcake, eyeing it. It's covered in frosting, the detail of Magnus's previous work obliterated, and he glances at Magnus before slowly starting to wipe it clean, following Magnus's example.

"Isn't the term 'mini cupcakes' a bit redundant?" Alec asks after a moment, noting the small sizes. "Aren't cupcakes already miniature versions of, you know, cake?"

"Good point," Magnus admits, lining up the pastries in question on a tray, as he cleans them. "But people like 'mini' things. Sounds cuter. And cute sells."

He cocks his eyebrows at Alec as he says it, before catching himself and looking back down. He didn't mean for it to sound like an innuendo, but it somehow still came out that way, and he makes a point of not elaborating. Alec thankfully doesn't even reply.

The cupcakes aren't in too bad shape, just like Simon said. The carefully applied lilac frosting has simply been ruined on about thirty of them, and Magnus puts aside the intact ones to focus on those in need of attention. Over the course of the next few minutes, he and Alec silently wipe off the ruined frosting, and Magnus can't quite believe this is happening. Standing in a kitchen and handling baked goods with Alec Lightwood was not how he thought he'd be spending even a fraction of this evening.

He supposes the guy is helpful, though. This is saving Magnus a lot of time.

Once a few of the cupcakes are clean, Magnus gets started on repairing the damage that's been done. He lines up a few, and proceeds to make various swirls and shapes using the nozzle of the pastry bag, one cupcake at a time. Meanwhile, Alec keeps cleaning up the ruined ones, placing each one neatly next to the others waiting their turn to be made pretty again.

Voices and low music filter through the kitchen door from the main hall, but other than that, the small space is silent, and Magnus glances at Alec. He seems wholly focused on the task at hand, not even looking up for a second, and Magnus deliberates as he turns back to the frosting.

"Who knew you'd know your way around a kitchen," Magnus says, and Alec hums in reply. Magnus half-expects him to continue, but another glance at the man's focused expression tells him that's not going to happen on its own.

"That's it?" Magnus says, after a few seconds. "Well, now I just feel weird. A snarky comment would be nice, at the very least."

"Sure," Alec says evenly. "What would you like to hear?"

Magnus narrows his eyes at him, pleasantly surprised by the dry humor.

"I suppose that'll do, for now," he says, turning back to the cupcakes. A few more seconds of silence follow, as Alec obligingly cleans off and lines up the pastries for Magnus to decorate, while putting aside the finished ones as they're done. Magnus tilts his head. "Maybe I'll say something along the lines of, 'you're really good with your hands', and you can respond. Be it with a retort, or a thank you."

This time, it's most definitely meant as an innuendo, despite only for the sake of pushing Alec's buttons. But Alec doesn't reply, barely gives Magnus an acknowledging glance, and Magnus returns to his work. He sighs, eyebrows raised.

"Or, we could just," he says under his breath, with a half-shrug, "not talk at all."

Ten full seconds of silence pass before Alec surprisingly breaks it.

"You always have to talk?" he asks, the slightest hint of dryness in his tone, and Magnus can't help but almost smile in amusement.

"No," he says easily. "I prefer being cold and standoffish. Who needs conversation, anyway? It's not like it makes socializing more enjoyable, or anything."

He swears he hears just the tiniest sigh from Alec, but that's about it. His tolerance levels for Magnus's provoking seem rather high, and Magnus isn't sure if he likes that, or not.

"Do you guys spend all your time in coffee shops?" Alec eventually asks, and Magnus can barely even tell if he's being sarcastic. He decides to see it as Alec awkwardly referencing one of the few encounters they've had, and takes the bait.

"Only when there are sub-par indie bands playing," Magnus replies easily. "It's a nice way to make new friends." He licks his lips, hesitates to continue, but he can't stop himself. "In fact, we'd just had the pleasure of making a new acquaintance the other day, when you stopped by."

Alec bristles. Magnus can practically sense it, and he knows he hit a nerve.

"Yeah," Alec says evenly. "Valentine Morgenstern does have such a sparkling personality, I'm sure he's real popular. What a great friend to have."

The scathing sarcasm in his tone is impossible to miss, and Magnus frowns slightly. Alec doesn't seem to notice, his eyes directed at the rather perfectly aligned muffins that are systematically getting a new look by Magnus's hand. Half of them are done, at this point.

"Looks like he lost your family's friendship," Magnus says carefully, but challengingly, while pressing out perfectly swirl-shaped frosting on another pastry. "Which I guess is irreversible?"

"It is," Alec says, looking up. His tone is suddenly harder, and Magnus meets his gaze. "Why do you wanna know?"

He leans against the edge of the counter, bringing him to perfect eye-level with Magnus, who doesn't flinch.

"Curiosity," Magnus says bluntly. "I guess I'm trying to make out your character."

"And how's that going, so far?"

"Not great," Magnus says. "I keep hearing different things about you, and they can't seem to decide on one version of what kind of person you are."

Alec doesn't immediately reply, eyes locked on Magnus's as his expression remains controlled and mostly unreadable. Magnus knows he's pushing it, though, and he knows he should probably stop.

It's several seconds later than Alec exhales and looks away.

"Well, good luck with that."

It's all he says, and the tone itself tells Magnus rather definitively that that's the end of whatever conversation they were just having, and not even another half a minute passes before Magnus regrets what he just said. He shouldn't have pushed it, shouldn't have given into the urge to poke at this guy until he reacted―it was petty, and Magnus likes to consider himself above that. Even if Alec had it coming, and probably deserved it. Maybe. Probably.

Only a third of the cupcakes are left to decorate, and Alec isn't far behind in preparing them. By the time there are only five left, he's all done, and he places the last cleaned-up pastry in line for Magnus to fix. It's only then Magnus notices that Alec's hands are covered in frosting, and Alec glances down at the mess, lilac sweetness covering his fingers. Magnus is just about to helpfully direct him to the paper towels nearby, when Alec decides on a different approach. He puts his fingers in his mouth, and Magnus nearly chokes.

It shouldn't be a big deal, it really shouldn't―it's not like he's doing it in a titillating or even particularly graceful way. It's practical, efficient, but the sight of it still makes Magnus's throat go dry. Maybe it's just something about the way those full, soft-looking lips wrap around long fingers and slide that frosting right off, Alec's tongue sweeping over his lower lip to get the last of it. Whatever the reason, it leaves Magnus staring, mouth half-open, for a good amount of seconds.

Until Alec looks up, and meets his gaze.

It seems to take Alec a moment to realize what he just did, but when he does realize it, he doesn't really react aside from straightening just slightly where he stands. He keeps his eyes on Magnus's a little while longer, before looking down at the cupcakes, clearing his throat. Meanwhile, Magnus is still frozen in mid-motion next to him, the pastry bag in his hands still poised over a half-naked cupcake. Magnus slowly drags his attention back down, and resumes creating little leaf-like shapes with the nozzle, suddenly very aware of Alec standing next to him.

The silence continues, and Alec keeps his hands resting against the edge of the counter as Magnus finishes off his work. He has just salvaged the very last cupcake barely a minute later, when Alec draws a breath of something like relief.

"You done?" Alec asks. It sounds blunt, albeit neutral, but Magnus can't even find it in him to come up with a witty retort.

"Yes," he just says, and Alec nods.

"Okay," he says. "Good."

He waits for a moment, as though expecting further instruction, but Magnus just inclines his head in dismissal. Alec takes the permission gladly, and Magnus looks up just as he leaves the kitchen and lets the door swing shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. Lots of setup, but there you go.
> 
> Visit me on [the twitters](https://twitter.com/leMonocleFox) and please yell at me using _#wigbfic_. Also, updating this while irl adulting can be hard work, so if you feel like helping me out, check out [my tumblr](http://lemonoclefox.tumblr.com/wigb) ( _#wigbfic_ works there, too) and maybe treat me to a cup of coffee through the button I've got there?  <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I'm-- Ngl, I was _not_ expecting this kind of response to this story (I was actually really hesitant to even post it, which poor [Heather](http://clockworkswans.tumblr.com/) can attest to). But the amount of love it has gotten in such a short time is mindblowing. I cannot thank you all enough <3 I'm so thrilled that you like the story, and that I've apparently managed to successfully weave together two completely different universes/stories + a goddamn bakery AU. Thank you.
> 
> On that note, here's part 2/3. I've been asked this a bit, and here's the plan: the main story is in three parts. I'll probably add a short epilogue when it's over, and then add a few oneshots from Alec's POV (of scenes from the main story, that is). So yeah, things are a-brewin'. Enjoy!
> 
> (also, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fNLEPrNi2A) is excellent ambience for when Magnus goes for a run in this chapter, just sayin')

If Magnus weren't such a hopeless romantic, deep down underneath layers of warranted cynicism, he would be thoroughly disgusted by the constant displays of affection between Clary and Jace. As it is, he'll scoff and roll his eyes, but simultaneously grin whenever Clary giggles at her phone, or Jace quickly stops by the bakery to say hi and get coffee, or Clary posts a selfie with Jace by her side and some nice setting in the background. Despite all the cringeworthiness, it's actually quite lovely, and Magnus is happy to see Clary so happy. And he supposes he must relent and admit that Jace isn't all that bad. A bit of a jock-type, but genuine, and that's really all that matters.

At least, he's a hell of a lot friendlier than his brother.

Magnus groans, leans his forehead against the cupboard in front of him, with a thud. He's not supposed to be thinking about that, to be thinking about _him_ , but somehow he is. He doesn't even know why. Though it might have something to do with both Jace and Lydia constantly popping up, like living reminders of Alec's existence. Whatever the reason, it's annoying, because it's been almost two weeks since he last saw the guy. In that kitchen, before they then proceeded to spend the rest of the night awkwardly avoiding each other.

_Great._

"Off day?" Luke asks, and Magnus angles his head, still leaning against the cupboard, to see him properly. Magnus in the middle of a work shift, taking a minute to himself while the carrot cake bakes.

"Just pondering my existence," he says. "Life, death, reality TV. That sort of thing."

Luke nods.

"Right," he says. "Just letting you know that you can take Tuesday off. We got it covered."

Magnus frowns, straightens as Luke makes a move to leave.

"Again?" he says, and Luke turns back around.

"Yeah," Luke says simply. Magnus narrows his eyes.

"Anything you wanna tell me?" he asks innocently. Luke shakes his head, his expression about as truthfully innocent as Magnus's.

"No," he says, as though mildly confused by the question. Magnus lowers his chin, gives Luke a pointed, almost stern look.

"Really?" he says doubtfully. "Because that's the second time in as many weeks you guys have asked me not to come in. What's going on?"

Luke sighs, giving in. He glances out at the front room of the café, as though making sure they can't be overheard.

"Okay," he says, turning back to Magnus. "Remember that busted pipe, last year?"

"The one that destroyed most of our supplies and furniture, and nearly flooded this place?" Magnus asks, eyebrows raised. He's almost offended by the mere memory of the damage that particular water leak caused. The whole staff was on repair- and cleanup duty 24/7 until it was all fixed enough to let them open the bakery to customers again. "Very clearly. Why?"

Luke suddenly looks very tired.

"We've been having some trouble making up for those losses," he says. "The insurance didn't cover all of it, and now it's come back to bite us in the ass."

Magnus frowns.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"I mean that we can barely pay the bills," Luke says. "Not to mention, paychecks. We're having a hard time just holding onto this place."

Magnus folds his arms, his frown remaining.

"What, you're saying we might get thrown out?" he asks carefully, and Luke inclines his head.

"Ragnor says we're not totally screwed, just yet," he says. "But the vultures are circling, so to speak. This is a good space, people want it. And the owner isn't too excited about our issues, so he's not giving us much leeway."

Magnus lets that sink in, tries to imagine for a moment what his life would be like without this place. He doesn't like it.

"Who else knows?" he asks.

"Just you," Luke says. "And Jocelyn and Ragnor, obviously. We don't want to tell the kids until we're sure it's either fixable, or a complete bust."

Magnus nods. His frown has gone from confused to concerned, and he presses his lips together.

"We'll think of something," he says, his tone soft, but confident. Luke huffs a laugh.

"Yeah," he says. He sounds tired. "Sure."

He claps a hand on Magnus's shoulder, and it's times like these that Magnus has to remind himself that Luke isn't _that_ much older than him. They're just over a decade apart in age, yet somehow Luke and Jocelyn feel like parents, far too often.

"You know I'd happily put in some hours anytime, right?" Magnus says. Luke has never been a proud man, but he still doesn't want to overstep. "Free of charge."

He adds it a bit jokingly to take the edge off, but thankfully, Luke hears the sincerity.

"I know," he says, dropping his hand from Magnus's shoulder. "Jocelyn does, too. She just doesn't want to have to ask you to do that."

"Well, she's not asking me," Magnus points out. "I'm offering."

Luke looks vaguely surprised, but only for a moment. Then his face melts into a grateful, weary smile.

"I'll let her know," he says, as comfortingly calm as ever. "Thank you."

"Of course," Magnus says. Luke gives him a nod, before turning around and leaving the kitchen. As he heads back out to the café area, Magnus watches him go, brow furrowed. He wants to make this better. After everything they've done for him, he wants to.

Magnus never would have guessed, in his youth, that _baking_ would somehow end up saving his life. Not only did it give him somewhere to go when he needed it, it gave him something to do and get better at, a way of expressing himself and bringing other people joy even on such a small scale. Creating lovely things, even when everything else was shit.

His foster parents were sometimes shit, long after his own parents had either kicked him out or died, respectively, and even when his prospects seemed unimaginably low, somehow baking helped. Through a winding series of events, Magnus somehow ended up working part-time at Fairchild's in his early twenties―the place just newly opened, at the time―in exchange for Jocelyn teaching him a thing or two about the wonders of pastries. Eventually, he became pretty good at it, then great, and despite never getting any formal training or education, he's now more than a little confident in his skills.

In short, Magnus doesn't know where he'd be without this place, without these people, his family. He owes them so much, and if they're having trouble, he wants to help.

 

* * *

 

There are certain places where Magnus expects to be safe from interruptions and unpleasant things. His workplace is one of them, his morning run another, and also the sandwich place around the corner. Yes, Fairchild's _does_ make sandwiches, but Magnus will reluctantly admit that none of them measure up to this particular masterpiece composed from sourdough bread, fresh turkey, kale and several other lovely foods that make it what it is. And he needs it sometimes, needs his lunch to be just enjoyable enough to distract from anything else going on in his life, if only just for an hour or so.

Today, this sacred space is invaded, as he patiently waits for his order to be filled, standing by the counter of the gourmet sandwich shop. It's invaded by the sound of high heels and the smell of expensive perfume, and Magnus feels a sense of dread the moment Camille speaks.

"Magnus," she says as she approaches him, with a tone that might pass for genuine surprise if she put more effort into it. "How nice, seeing you here."

"Yes, quite the coincidence," Magnus says, throwing her a glance. "Very serendipitous. And a little creepy, not gonna lie."

He's really not exaggerating; this place is one where Camille is so unlikely to show up, that it's almost comical. He can't help but suspect that she came here solely to "bump into" him, for some nefarious reason, or other.

Camille takes Magnus's subtle jab in stride. She just smiles, emits a soft, throaty chuckle, as though it's merely a joke between friends. Then she straightens slightly.

"How have you been?" she asks, and Magnus keeps his expression even.

"Peachy," he says.

Camille trails her fingers along the edge of the counter, rubs her fingertips together with just the slightest nose-wrinkle, and sighs easily. She doesn't seem to have any intention of ordering anything, much to the quiet infuriation of the people working here, as well as those waiting in line. Magnus sees one patron roll his eyes as he makes his way past to place his order.

"I hear Fairchild's is in trouble," Camille says, and Magnus tenses slightly at the abrupt subject change.

"Oh?" he says, still avoiding Camille's gaze, even though he can practically feel her watching him with a knowing glint in her eyes. "How so?"

"People talk," Camille says. "Especially people who might be interested in scooping that place up along with the financial possibilities that whole neighborhood entails. The current owner is very open to the property changing hands."

Magnus turns to her, and distinctly remembers Luke mentioning that the vultures have already started circling. _How accurate._

"Your concern is touching," Magnus says acidly.

"You know," Camille says after a few moments, in that silky way that reminds Magnus of a snake. "I could help out. I'd love to, actually."

Magnus frowns.

"How?" he asks suspiciously. "And more importantly, why?"

Camille smiles.

"Darling, you know money solves everything," she says, and the pet name grates on Magnus's ears, hearing it in her voice. "My company has been eyeing that particular area for a while, and would not be opposed to making a purchase. If we do, I might be inclined to let your charming bakery stay, despite your financial troubles. With some increased influence from us, of course. And as for why..." Camille shrugs delicately. "Would you believe it's out of the goodness of my heart?"

"No," Magnus says. "I wouldn't."

Camille laughs.

"So pessimistic," she says, trailing a finger down along the front of Magnus's shirt. She notices his expression, and sighs. "Fine. Maybe I'd like a teensy favor, as well. Aside from owning the place, that is."

_There it is._

"And what kind of favor would that be?" Magnus asks, dreading the reply.

"Some of your company," Camille says, tilting her head and eyeing Magnus up and down with a smile that could be seen as seductive. "I've missed you. I miss the fun we used to have."

Magnus's stomach turns with disgust, and he asks himself for the millionth time how he ever saw anything in this woman worth loving.

"Well, I don't," he says, grasping Camille's wrist and pointedly removing her hand from his chest. "And I won't grant you that _teensy favor._ "

The acid in his voice isn't lost on Camille, who almost looks surprised at the rejection.

"Really?" she says doubtfully. "You'd let your family's little business fail, their life's work, simply because of your pride?"

The words sting, and Camille knows it, but Magnus stands firm.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want me to make a deal with the devil for their sake," he says, and this time, Camille's surprise looks a tad more genuine. She seems to go over her options for a moment, before she lets out a soft scoff.

"You realize you're done, without me," she says, and it's more of a statement, than a question. "I'm giving you an out, and this is your choice?"

"It is," Magnus says. He has a nagging sense of guilt in the back of his mind as he says it, despite the outward confidence, but he holds firm. Even aside from his personal integrity, he has no doubt that saving Fairchild's wouldn't be worth all the outside influence that would no doubt affect it, were they to accept Camille's offer.

Camille lifts her chin.

"Fine," she says, but she sounds airily confident, rather than defeated or annoyed. "Doesn't matter, anyway. The place doesn't belong to you, it's not like you'll have a say in whether I buy it, or not." She lets out a dainty sigh. "Shame, though. This way might have been easier on you. Maybe you should start looking into other, more affordable locations."

With that, she leaves, the conversation so abruptly ended that Magnus can't help but just stand there and stare for a moment.

She's right, of course. He hates that. Unless they somehow miraculously come up with the money to buy out the place―including the Frays' apartment on the second floor―they are indeed completely screwed. Even if they manage to just pay all the fees needed to stay the way they are, there would be nothing stopping Camille from kicking them out anyway, once she buys the building.

Magnus sighs heavily, rubs his forehead with his fingers, eyes closed. They'll figure something out, he tells himself. They've still got time before any changes can be made, and there's still a chance before the situation becomes too grim.

 

Despite the unfortunate run-in with his deplorable ex, Magnus's mood still picks up just a little on his way back to work. Good food tends to do that, and he's honestly looking forward to just devouring the delicious sandwich waiting in the paper bag in his hand.

When he reaches Fairchild's, he's pleasantly surprised to see Clary already there. He spots her through the window, though she barely looks up from where she's wiping down a table, when Magnus enters through the front door.

"Hey," Magnus says cheerily. The café is at the moment completely empty aside from the two of them, and he makes his way around Clary to put his lunch on the counter. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Clary hums.

"Yeah," she says, but there's something off about her voice. "Been busy."

"Busy with a certain golden-haired stallion?" Magnus says, but the response he gets is unexpected, to say the least. Instead of the laugh or amused scoff he's gotten used to getting from Clary when mentioning her boyfriend, he gets a choked sound, and he frowns. When Magnus looks over his shoulder, Clary has turned her gaze downward, her red hair falling like a curtain and hiding her face from view.

"Clary?" Magnus asks, but she just shakes her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Clary says, a little too quickly, her voice oddly thick. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Needless to say, Magnus doesn't believe her.

"You don't sound fine," he says, the inevitable concern shining through. He hesitates. "Is it about Jace?"

It's a bit blunt, perhaps, but it's also the most obvious route. It makes Clary pause, and she sniffles, which makes alarms go off in Magnus's head.

"He, uh," Clary starts. "He broke up with me."

"He did what?" Magnus immediately says, outrage somehow superseding surprise.

"Or, ghosted me, or whatever," Clary says, looking up. She sniffles again, her green eyes shining with tears she refuses to shed. "I haven't heard from him in days, and he won't answer my texts or calls."

She presses her lips together, and Magnus momentarily appreciates that they're alone, before he gently pulls her into a hug. She falls into it at once, dropping the rag she's holding and throwing her arms around him, choking back sobs as she burrows her face into the shoulder of Magnus's lace-patterned jacket.

"I thought it was going well," Magnus says softly, confused and upset on his friend's behalf. "He could barely talk with you around."

Clary scoffs, a bitter sound that in Magnus's opinion does not suit her.

"Yeah, well," she says. "I guess he got over it."

Magnus sighs, slowly strokes Clary's hair as she still does her best not to cry. He knew Clary liked Jace, _really_ liked him―but somehow, he's still taken slightly by surprise at just how heartbroken she is. That, and how he's more confounded than angry at Jace, at the moment.

"Tell me what happened," he says after a little while, and Clary takes a deep breath. She sniffles, and pulls away from Magnus's embrace.

"I don't know," she says, dropping into the nearest chair, a forlorn look on her face. "He just... stopped talking to me. He started canceling plans, and just..." She shrugs helplessly. "Apparently, he went to Chicago with Lydia."

The bitterness is evident in just those words, and Magnus frowns, confused.

"You don't think she talked him into―" he starts, but Clary cuts him off.

"No," she says, shaking her head as she looks up at him. "No, she wouldn't. He probably just... freaked out, and took off. Like all guys do."

"Ouch," Magnus says, but it's with such meekness that Clary knows not to take it seriously. It's enough to coax the smallest smile out of her, and she reaches for his hand.

"You're one of the good ones," she says. "At least as far as I know, I can't remember the last time I saw you date anyone―"

"Okay," Magnus interrupts, making Clary laugh, which he considers a win. "Less about me, and more about you. You got dumped, it sucks." He cocks his head. "Not that I'd give up, if I were you. I mean, I can't imagine Jace would just give up so easily."

"Magnus." Clary shakes her head. "Just― He clearly isn't interested, not anymore. It's better to just... let it go."

"Biscuit," Magnus says sympathetically, eyebrows raised. "I love you. But don't be an idiot."

Clary sighs tiredly.

"I'm not," she says, dropping his hand and slouching in her seat. "Maybe he just wasn't that into me, to begin with―"

"Again, don't be an idiot." Magnus sits down opposite his friend, who watches him with something akin to sad puppy eyes. "Maybe your hindsight is a bit muddled, at the moment. But I've seen the way he looks at you, the way you turn him into an adorable mess, just by talking. He's into you, and has been from day one. Trust me."

Clary chews her bottom lip, clearly at least _trying_ to believe Magnus's words, but the way she averts her eyes after a while tells Magnus it failed.

"I don't know," she says quietly, shaking her head. "Maybe it's for the best, anyway."

Magnus presses his lips together, brow furrowing in concern.

"Tell you what," he says, making Clary glance up at him from beneath her lashes. "Maybe you should just get away, for a little while. Take a break."

Clary scoffs.

"I can't," she says. "I've got work. And school―"

"I happen to recall you saying you don't have any mandatory lectures for the next couple of weeks," Magnus interjects. "And as far as work is concerned, I'm sure we'll manage without you, just for a while."

Clary narrows her eyes slightly.

"Where would I go?" she eventually asks, with a shrug, and Magnus is glad she's taken the bait.

"Well," he says. "Maybe it's time to pay Tessa a visit. You've been meaning to, right?"

Clary sighs, nodding.

"Yeah," she admits. "They, uh― They've got this big art project they're working on. She's actually asked if I wanted to help out."

Magnus nods, pleased with the slight excitement underneath the sadness in Clary's voice.

"Exactly," he says. "And I know dear James won't be opposed to visitors, either. They could use the company of other people, for once."

That coaxes a laugh out of Clary, and Magnus smiles.

"I'm gonna tell them you said that," Clary says. Magnus gives a nonchalant shrug.

"Go ahead," he says. "If that's what it takes to get you to leave."

Clary raises her eyebrows, folds her arms over her chest.

"Maybe I will," she says. "I can be happy, on my own. Who needs Jace, anyway?"

Magnus gives her an impressed look.

"That's the spirit," he says, and Clary lets out an easy laugh. "Show that Lightwood who's boss."

 

* * *

 

Ragnor hates it when Magnus calls his workplace _quaint_. Which of course only encourages Magnus to keep doing it, but it also doesn't make the descriptor any less accurate―while it's definitely a professional-looking office space, it's both smaller and more home-y than one would perhaps expect.

Magnus doesn't need much fuss or introduction when he reaches Ragnor's floor and greets Zoe, the receptionist. Instead, he heads straight for Ragnor's office, and knocks on the door. Clary has already been gone for a few days, and while they've been texting and Snapchatting quite a bit, Magnus is already bored without her company. At least she seems to be doing well―it seems that this trip was exactly the kind of distraction she needed. As such, when Ragnor invited him to interrupt his busy schedule today, Magnus was happy to accept.

"Come in," Ragnor calls from behind the door, and Magnus lets himself in. He finds his friend sitting at his desk, the window behind him showcasing a rather lovely city view, and Ragnor looks up. "Oh, it's you."

He says it so dryly that Magnus makes a mock-offended face.

"Yes, it's me," he says, closing the door behind him. "And I'm just super thrilled to see you, too."

Ragnor gives him a bored look.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing at the vacant chair in front of his desk, and Magnus complies. Just as he sits down, the door opens once again, this time with Zoe gently interrupting to place a tray on Ragnor's desk. Ragnor gives her a friendly smile. "Thank you, my dear." Zoe leaves, and Ragnor turns to Magnus, eyebrows raised. "Tea?"

"Do I have a choice?" Magnus asks.

"Not in my office, no," Ragnor says bluntly.

"Then, I'd love some."

Ragnor―ever the reluctant, albeit gracious, host―pours Magnus a cup and then one for himself. Magnus takes his, crosses one leg over the other as he leans back in his chair. It's a rather nice one, actually, the entire room balancing just perfectly between tasteful and approachable.

"So," Magnus says. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Ragnor starts, suddenly rather businesslike. He plucks a sugar cube from a small bowl on the tray, and drops it into his tea. "It concerns Fairchild's, and its dire financial situation."

Magnus frowns, freezes with his cup halfway to his mouth.

"That's why you asked me to come here?" he asks incredulously. "I'm pretty sure Luke or Jocelyn are more suited for solving that mess."

"This is not about solving it," Ragnor says, leaning back in his seat as he stirs his tea.

"I don't follow."

"It's already been solved," Ragnor explains. "I asked you here for afternoon tea. And to inform you of the solution, in the process."

Magnus narrows his eyes, holds his friend's gaze.

"What are you talking about?" he asks. Ragnor pouts in thought, glances down at his cup.

"Our company was made aware of a claim being laid on that neighborhood a while ago," he says. "By DuMort." Magnus tenses slightly at Camille's company's name. "And we decided to act, in a way that would benefit all sides."

It takes a minute for Magnus to put it together, and when he does, his expression goes slack with realization.

"You didn't," he says, and Ragnor sighs, sipping his tea.

"We did," he says calmly, but frowns when he sees Magnus about to go on a tirade. "Oh, relax, would you? It's not like I married the wench, it's just a business deal."

"With Camille," Magnus points out. Ragnor gestures dismissively.

"Yes, yes," he says. "A deal that is mutually beneficial, and which saves your precious bakery, as well."

He gives Magnus a pointed look, and Magnus presses his lips together.

"How, exactly?" he asks. He doesn't mean to sound snippy, but Ragnor takes it in stride.

"Labyrinth gets to keep the area which includes Fairchild's," Ragnor explains. "And DuMort gets the rest."

Magnus blinks.

"You're just _giving_ it to her?" he says, but Ragnor cuts him off with a sharp look.

"Don't insult me, Magnus," he says. "I am very good at my job, just as you are at yours. Trust me when I say that this deal would not have been made, were there no payoff to be had." He stirs his tea. "Besides, gentrification is a powerful thing. Your particular neighborhood will only increase in value, especially with a company like Lightwood Enterprises just next door. Camille knows this, but it was a choice of either accepting our offer, or losing even more to other ravenous competitors. She chose the safer properties, but the value of yours may eventually even surpass much of what she just gained. Through this foresight, we get a head start. And Fairchild's remains in your family's care, of course. Given our history of trust, I see no problem in giving the Frays more than enough time to get their finances in order."

Magnus just stares, takes that in for a moment. Of course, he understands the basics of the mess that is business and real estate and finance, and can clearly see Ragnor's point―he just can't be bothered to give it more thought than necessary on any given occasion. He finds it tedious. But this is more than that. It's a giant favor most wouldn't grant, and Magnus reprimands himself for ever forgetting the heart that lies beneath Ragnor's dry, composed exterior.

Magnus's mouth tugs in a smile, and he narrows his eyes.

"What a fiend, you are," he says, relaxing back in his seat. Ragnor chuckles under his breath as he sips his tea.

"You're welcome," he says.

"Thank you." Magnus hopes he comes off as sincere as he is, and judging by Ragnor's small nod, he does. Magnus sighs, stirs his tea. "I suppose I owe you one, now."

"No, of course not," Ragnor says. Then his eyebrows rise as he glances down at his cup. "Although, now that you mention it―"

Magnus lets out a small groan.

"Oh my god," he says. "What is it?"

Ragnor looks up at him, something simultaneously devious and innocent about his expression.

"Oh, nothing," he says. "I just have this _thing_ I have to go to this weekend, and... Well, I could use some company."

Magnus eyes him suspiciously.

"Continue," he says.

"There's a resort," Ragnor explains evenly. "A lovely place, just outside the city. Due to our recent deal with DuMort, my company is sending some of us on something of a retreat, along with several other poor saps from other companies like ours. Mostly, it's an opportunity for a large gathering of drab businesspeople to pat each other on the back, and plot world domination. But I hear the food is lovely."

Magnus frowns, eyes still narrowed.

"And you want me to come?" he asks.

"Just for the weekend," Ragnor says airily, sipping his tea.

"Right," Magnus says. "May I ask why?"

"Because I'd rather not have to face all those beasts, alone," Ragnor says. "Even if it is a five-star place, and all expenses paid. And it's quite common for people to bring a plus-one, you know."

"Pretty sure most of those are significant others," Magnus points out.

"Please," Ragnor says. "That doesn't make it a rule. Besides, I've been stuck with you for so long, I'm surprised we're not actually married, at this point."

Magnus can't help but laugh.

"Can't argue with that," he says.

"Not to mention," Ragnor says, his tone softening just slightly in its seriousness. "I'm sure you could use some time away from here." He sees Magnus's hesitation, and reads it correctly. "And I've been assured that our dear Ms. Belcourt won't be at the resort."

Magnus meets Ragnor's eye with some surprise, albeit the very relieved kind. His friend has a point; even aside from the whole Camille-thing, as well as the tension about Alec, Clary or Lydia aren't even around to spend time with. This could be good.

"Well, then," Magnus says, with a smile. "I'm all yours."

 

* * *

 

It's a nice resort, there's no doubt about that. After a long drive through a landscape that becomes increasingly less populated and more green, the further away from the city they get, Magnus and Ragnor finally arrive at their remote destination.

The main building they're met by breathes both new and old, large and impressive, backed by woods and facing vast, grassy slopes. As he follows his friend up to the entrance―their luggage being carried for them along the walkway―Magnus sees more trees in the distance, trails and gardens, even a lake. There's something serene about it all, and he's suddenly very grateful that Ragnor invited him along.

Checking in and finding their rooms is a quick and easy affair, and by the time the sun has started setting, Magnus has already made himself quite comfortable. The view is amazing, the hotel situated high above the green below, and the surrounding forest acts as a nice kind of barrier that makes this place feel isolated and calm in the very best way. Even though he and Ragnor share a bathroom and a hall, they both have separate, albeit connected, rooms. It still provides some privacy, and Magnus definitely wants that, right now.

Coming here was unquestionably a good call.

Magnus makes his way around his room, taking a closer look at what it has to offer. There's a brochure lying on a needlessly decorative, small desk, and he opens it, skimming through the information. There's apparently a pool here, a fancy gym, a spa, not to mention tennis and golf and other rich-people things. Magnus puts the brochure down, but makes a point of locating that spa at some point during the weekend. Unlike Ragnor, he has no business-reasons for coming here, so he might as well keep himself spoiled and entertained.

The towels in the lavish bathroom are monogrammed with an embroidered, intricate gold pattern, and the resort's name underneath; _Rosings._ Magnus strokes the luxurious cloth with his thumb and vaguely wonders if they'd miss these towels. Stealing from hotel rooms _is_ a little tacky, but when the towels are this nice, it might even be a crime not to. Magnus glances around, as though someone might catch him even considering this, before he releases the towel and pushes the thought aside. Okay, it would still be pretty tacky.

After dinner, when late evening rolls around, Ragnor makes sure to drag Magnus downstairs. He didn't just come here to laze around, after all, and while tonight's cocktail party-like event is rather formal and mostly just for mingling, it's still all for business. Always business. Magnus wonders how these people put up with it.

Nevertheless, it's an excuse to dress up. And to be treated to free drinks and expensive appetizers, all at the price of just smiling at strangers and making occasional small-talk―and Magnus has always been good at those things.

"Now, behave," Ragnor says as they descend the stairs to the ballroom-like space on the first floor of the hotel. It's already packed with people, all wearing lovely dresses and expensive suits, the atmosphere itself just oozing _luxury,_ quite frankly.

"My dear friend, you offend me," Magnus says, adjusting his black velvet jacket and dark, silk cravat. "I always behave."

"These people are a different breed," Ragnor reminds him, with some weariness. "Judging is what they do best."

"See, why did you even bring me here, if you're just gonna keep trying to scare me off?" Magnus asks, and Ragnor emits a tired noise.

"Good point," he says. "Maybe I'm starting to regret bringing you, at all."

Magnus has rather mixed feelings as they make their way into the crowd, accepting offered drinks and delicious hors d'oeuvres. On the one hand, he could definitely get used to this―he always has had a taste for expensive and beautiful things, and so he feels right at home. But on the other hand, he knows he doesn't belong here. He's an impostor, and as he joins Ragnor in mingling and making polite small-talk, he can tell these people know it. Like they can smell it on him. Not that it's a feeling he's unused to; he has gotten very good at hiding it, and doing a great job of rubbing his contrasting confidence in people's faces, instead. But still. It mildly irks him.

Partway through the evening, Magnus steps aside for a moment and returns to find Ragnor in the middle of talking to a woman. Straight-backed and dark-haired, she is quite the imposing figure, and Magnus slowly approaches the conversation, not wishing to interrupt.

"I'm glad you could make it, Mr. Fell," the woman says, her tone exceedingly polite, but anything but warm, and Ragnor frowns in a carefree expression.

"Maryse, please," he says easily, in a friendly manner, and Magnus doesn't miss the slightest twitch in the woman's expression. Anyone who doesn't know Ragnor may interpret his tone as ignorantly nonchalant, but it's obvious to Magnus that he's deliberately pushing buttons by using the woman's first name so easily―which she is clearly not a fan of. "Think nothing of it. I'm happy to accept the invitation on Labyrinth's behalf."

The woman―Maryse―smiles tightly, and Magnus can't resist raising his eyebrows just slightly in amusement. He'll have to make sure to ask Ragnor later why, exactly, he doesn't like this person. Just then, Maryse's eyes flick to Magnus.

"Oh, where are my manners," Ragnor says. "Maryse, dear, this is my very good friend, Magnus Bane."

Maryse quickly eyes Magnus up and down, her expression mostly unreadable but definitely not impressed. She still keeps her smile, though.

"Pleasure," she says, shaking Magnus's hand, and Magnus returns the smile.

"Likewise," he says.

"Maryse owns this resort, as well as her company, along with her husband," Ragnor explains, before turning to Maryse. "And Magnus is my guest."

 Maryse lifts her chin just slightly, as though that explains everything.

"Of course," she says, and Magnus decides that he doesn't like her. There's something about the way she says it, as though she can tell just as well as everyone else here that he just doesn't belong.

Magnus holds Maryse's gaze calmly, until she looks away, and only then does he look down and sip his drink. He's not hurt, or even offended. He's just annoyed.

"There you are," Maryse says after a moment, but she's clearly speaking to someone else, so Magnus barely registers it. "I was wondering where you'd gone. Did you speak to Blackwell?"

"I did," comes the reply, and the voice behind the words definitely makes Magnus react. He looks up. "He won't budge."

Maryse lets out a suffering sigh.

"He will," she says confidently. "They always do."

Magnus has to physically stop his jaw from dropping, as he sees who just arrived. Meanwhile, Alec spots him as well, and the look on his face is an odd one. There's blatant surprise, but it fades so quickly into something like relief that Magnus doesn't quite know what to make of it. Alec exhales, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, and Magnus himself is vaguely aware of an odd flutter beneath his ribs.

"Gentlemen," Maryse says, snapping Magnus out of his very brief trance. "This is my son, Alec."

Magnus feels the oddest, chilling sensation drop to the pit of his stomach as she speaks, and he's quite sure that if not for the warm lighting, his sudden paleness would be just as obvious as it feels. He inhales slowly, keeps his expression neutral, even as Alec's eyes stay locked with his.

"We've met," Alec says after a moment, very steadily. Magnus hesitates a split second, before forcing a polite smile.

"We have," he says. _Lightwood,_ he thinks _._ Maryse _Lightwood_ , of course.

And _of course,_ Alec is here. Because anything else would have been way too convenient and easy, and would have meant something actually went Magnus's way, for the first time since he first laid eyes on this guy.

Magnus sips his drink, wishes it weren't completely inappropriate at the moment to just down the whole thing at once.

"Oh," Maryse says. The surprise in her tone is evident. "How so?"

She sounds almost wary, but Alec replies before Magnus has a chance to.

"Fairchild's bakery catered the charity event, a while back," he explains evenly, turning to his mother. "Magnus works there."

It's not a lie, technically. It's actually the complete truth, and really all that Maryse needs to know. And it's not like their interactions have had any other layers to them, not really. But somehow, the easy and businesslike way Alec says it is... hurtful. It's not the right word, but Magnus can't really find another one to better describe what it makes him feel. Which in itself is annoying. _Damn it,_ why does everything about this man have to annoy him so much?

"So you're a... baker," Maryse says, the hesitation obvious and the tone of her voice making it sound more like a disgruntled statement, than a question. Magnus inhales slowly, keeps a friendly smile.

"Pastry chef," he clarifies. "But close enough."

Maryse lets out a hum, one of both consideration and contempt.

"Such interesting friends you have these days, Alec," she says, turning to her son. "Though, I suppose it's good to mingle with other groups, once in a while."

She doesn't sound like she thinks it's particularly good. It even takes Magnus a second to determine if she's being serious or not, with that ridiculous phrasing, and when he concludes that she is, he can barely hold back every sardonic retort that comes to mind.

"Wow," he says, all the same. "I didn't realize this was the 19th century. If I'd known, I wouldn't have shown up here to intrude on the revelry of the upper class."

He sips his drink to stop himself from continuing, but the slight regret he feels is remedied by the way he can practically sense Ragnor swell with pride, next to him.

Maryse is clearly surprised by the gall, but only suffers the tense silence for about a second.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand our ways," she says in a chilly tone, but Magnus is unfazed.

"You and me both," he says, almost under his breath. Meanwhile, neither Alec nor Ragnor says anything―Alec looks incredibly uncomfortable, while Ragnor seems amused―until someone passing by lightly bumps into Ragnor, spurring him into action. He clears his throat.

"You mentioned Blackwell―" he says, refocusing Maryse's attention on himself and allowing Magnus to slip out of the conversation.

He still remains in place, though. Ragnor proceeds to make some small-talk with the Lightwoods for a minute or so, while Magnus very deliberately keeps his gaze averted, gratefully accepting his friend's swift change of subject. He should have just kept his mouth shut, especially with Alec standing right there.

This wasn't supposed to happen, Alec wasn't supposed to be here. Magnus wasn't expecting to see him again at all, especially with Jace and Clary breaking up, and now he feels like he has just been ambushed. He sips his drink, swears he can feel Alec's eyes on him, though he can't imagine why. The guy doesn't seem to like him anymore than Magnus does him, so why would he be looking―

"Excuse me for a moment, would you?" Magnus eventually says, looking up, and the others turn to him. He smiles politely. "It was nice meeting you," he says evenly to Maryse, before turning to Alec. He hesitates for just the briefest fraction of a second. "And lovely to see you again."

He gets an acknowledging look from them both, before he quickly turns around and walks away.

 

 _Lovely._ Why did he say that? _Lovely._ It wasn't _lovely_ seeing Alec. He meant to say _nice_ , or _good_ , or any other mostly-neutral adjective, and even then just out of politeness. But no. His idiot self had to go for _lovely,_ for some reason.

Magnus sighs. He doesn't deserve this.

It's not all too surprising that Ragnor eventually finds him, standing by one of the large windows overlooking the grounds. He sidles up to Magnus and stands there for a moment, before breaking the silence.

"How are we doing?" he asks casually, and Magnus exhales.

"Oh, I'm fine," he says. "Just basking in the fortuity of bumping into one of the two people I came here to avoid. I'm spectacular."

"I didn't know he'd be here," Ragnor defends himself lightly. He sighs. "And I don't know what happened at that charity event to increase the tension between you two, but I shall not broach the subject, since it was clearly unsavory."

 _Quite the opposite,_ Magnus thinks to himself, _that's the problem._ He's suddenly hit with the memory of Alec licking that sweet frosting off his fingers, how it left Magnus just staring like an idiot, and his annoyance spikes in a second. He takes a deep breath.

"Doesn't matter," he says, forcing some ease into his tone. "I'll manage. The drinks are free, and that's what I'm here for."

He raises his glass pointedly, and Ragnor follows suit, before accepting Magnus's assurance and once again leaving to talk to some important associate he's here to suck up to. Magnus remains by the window for a little while longer, gazing out over the grounds and admiring the way the lights from the hotel illuminate the area outside. He swirls his drink, and takes a sip.

Not lovely at all.

 

There's a piano. Magnus noticed it almost immediately after arriving here, but he hasn't given it much though, until now. While there is a gorgeous grand piano in the ballroom, there is a smaller one by the stairs, away from the crowd but still not in private. It's almost a kind of lobby, with people walking back and forth, up and down the stairs, and talking a little more easily without the murmur of music and voices all around.

Magnus sits down on the piano stool, carefully places his drink on the edge of the piano. He's on his third for the night, and while it's definitely not enough to get him drunk, it's enough to make him pleasantly relaxed―enough to actually give playing a try, even though he has never been very good at it, and hasn't done it properly in years. Most of his skills come from Catarina patiently teaching him some basics, in their youth―while he went for baking, she ended up pursuing music, despite finding a home with the Frays much like Magnus did. These days, she travels all over the place with an orchestra, and though they keep in touch, Magnus hasn't seen her in some time.

Catarina has always favored more somber pieces, but Magnus always insisted on something a little more joyful during their sort of-lessons, much to his friend's annoyance. As such, he now ends up playing the first melody that comes to mind, quickly getting into the rhythm of it and loosening up. It's still not particularly good, rather sub-par compared to anyone with even basic mastery of the instrument, but it's still okay. At least Magnus thinks so. And it's not like anyone is really listening, anyway; the hall around him is very sparsely populated, and no one really throws him a second glance.

He's not sure how long he's been playing―a few minutes, at most―when he hesitates. The sound of approaching footsteps first distracts Magnus's focus, but what really catches his attention is the vaguely familiar scent that comes with it. It's an inviting combination of warm and rough and rounded, with a hint of cologne, and Magnus can't help but look over his shoulder.

_God damn it._

He doesn't have time to turn back around before Alec has seen that he's seen him, and Magnus takes a deep breath. He makes sure to keep playing, as though the man's sudden presence doesn't faze him in the slightest. Because it totally doesn't.

Despite Alec's determined, albeit slow, trajectory, Magnus is still mildly surprised when he shows up next to the piano. He just stands there for a moment, and Magnus glances at him.

"Alexander," he says, his slight intoxication making the name slowly roll off his tongue in a way perhaps a bit more seductive than he'd prefer. "Look at you, coming all the way over here to listen to my mediocrity. Nice try, but I will not be intimidated."

He adds it with joking defiance, and he swears Alec sounds amused when he replies.

"Pretty sure I couldn't intimidate you, even if I did try," he says, and Magnus throws him another glance. His tone is uncharacteristically easy, casual, and Magnus wonders if he's perhaps had a few drinks as well.

Magnus turns back to the piano, his hands still wandering over the keys in movements more fluid and confident than he was somehow expecting. Meanwhile, Alec remains in the periphery of his vision, quietly observing and listening as Magnus plays, a surprisingly non-intrusive presence at his side.

Magnus refuses to feel self-conscious.

"Found you," someone says, and Magnus almost jumps. It seems he was more immersed in this than he thought. "Don't forget to mingle some more."

Magnus recognizes the male voice, though he can't quite place it.

"You couldn't wait five minutes to tell me that?" Alec says to the newcomer, his tone suddenly very dry―it makes the tone he just used with Magnus sound like velvet, in comparison.

"Sorry," the other man says. "Boss's orders."

" _I'm_ your boss," Alec points out, while Magnus keeps his eyes on the keys.

"Yeah, but _she_ is _your_ boss."

Alec lets out a sigh that sounds tired, annoyed, and disappointed, all at once, and Magnus glances at the man he's talking to. He does recognize him. Raj, he believes Lydia called him, that time they paid the Lightwood Enterprises offices a visit.

Raj spots Magnus then, and seems to do a double-take.

"Hey," he says. He frowns. "Wait, you're Lydia's friend, right?" Magnus nods, turns back to the piano. "Yeah, I remember you," Raj continues, and Magnus rolls his eyes while the guy can't see. Raj seems friendly enough, but Magnus just _really_ isn't in the mood for more small-talk, at the moment. "How do you two know each other?"

A gesture between Magnus and Alec is implied in his tone, and Magnus's fingers trip over the keys for a moment, before he grits his teeth and gets back on track.

"Same way he knows Lydia," Alec supplies neutrally. Magnus refrains from commenting that while that is accurate, their acquaintance has a slightly different vibe.

"Oh, right," Raj says, nodding. At least, Magnus assumes he is. "Wait, so you met at that bar, too?"

"Indeed," Magnus says, hoping that the short tone will make Raj leave. It doesn't work.

"Oh my god," Raj says, instead. "Alec, at a bar? What was that even like?"

Magnus glances over at them, and he catches the small look of warning Alec throws his subordinate. Raj doesn't seem to, though. His eyes are on Magnus, who stops playing in favor of turning more properly in his direction, still comfortably seated on the piano stool.

"The truth?" he asks with somewhat dramatic gravity, and Raj gives a small nod, eyebrows raised in amused interest. Magnus glances at Alec's now unreadable expression, and back again. "First time we met, he didn't even talk to anyone. Could barely get a word out of him."

"I didn't _know_ anyone," Alec points out, and Magnus turns to him, tilts his head.

"Right," he says. "And it's not like a bar, or a social gathering in general, is a good place for introductions, or anything."

Raj chuckles, and Alec presses his lips together.

"Oh, man," Raj says. "That does sound like him."

While Magnus would be generally amused at putting the eldest Lightwood in his place, he finds himself not caring much for Raj's tone. He turns to him, keeping his expression neutral, but still almost aggressively unimpressed, to make this as clear as possible without committing. Thankfully, someone calls for Raj's attention, just then, and he looks over his shoulder.

"Gotta go," he says, before throwing both Magnus and Alec an easy smile. A little too easy, for Magnus's taste. He raises his glass in some kind of goodbye, before he turns around and heads back into the ballroom.

Magnus watches him go, before he remembers that Alec is still here. His gaze wanders back to him, still standing by the piano. He doesn't look out of place. In fact, he looks like he fits right in, with no drink in hand but with a suit and posture that exude a unique kind of assurance―one that Magnus, in all his confidence, would never be able to truly copy in a grand place like this. Regardless of Maryse's arrogance, the meaning of her words holds true: Alec belongs here, and Magnus does not.

Magnus holds Alec's gaze for a moment, waiting for him to speak, to say anything at all. When he doesn't, Magnus turns back to the piano, lazily resumes the melody he was playing. He doesn't get very far.

"I―" Alec starts, before cutting himself off. It's enough to catch Magnus's attention, and he stops playing once more, looks back up at Alec. Alec licks his lips, averts his gaze. "I'm not great at talking to people I don't know."

He says it with obvious hesitation, and his eyes are surprisingly sincere when they find Magnus's again. It takes Magnus off guard. While Alec is definitely not a fan of socializing, by the looks of it, Magnus has since day one assumed that the guy's arrogance would at the very least give him the confidence to mingle more easily, especially on that first night they met. To have the opposite proven makes Magnus sympathize in a way he doesn't quite like, and he nods slowly.

"Well, practice makes perfect," he says, for lack of anything else, as he turns back to the piano.

He doesn't mean to sound blunt or rude, but there's a distinct feeling of finality in the air as he says it. It's apparently enough to make Alec give up, because as Magnus slowly starts playing again, he can hear him walk away.

 

* * *

 

Magnus has no trouble at all getting out of bed the next morning. There is no hangover, the bed was exceedingly comfortable, and the thought of breakfast is more than enough motivation. Ragnor joins him after being prompted for ten minutes by Magnus, and the two of them head downstairs.

Breakfast seems to be just as much of an affair as dinner, which Magnus can't say he minds. It's already rather crowded, despite the early hour, but still not too much so to be a nuisance. Once they reach the dining room, however, Ragnor leaves on a quick visit to the bathroom, and Magnus is left waiting in the hall, hungry and slightly impatient. While he waits, he's too busy gazing at the increasingly cloudier sky outside the window to immediately notice someone else approaching.

"Good morning."

Magnus turns around, and isn't even a little bit surprised to see Alec standing there. He is slightly surprised, though, at how annoyed he is by the man's apparent ability to look amazing, regardless of the time of day.

Magnus keeps his expression neutral.

"Good morning," he replies, albeit with slightly more uncertainty than Alec just displayed. He half-expects Alec to say something else, since he's not moving and seems determined to keep it that way, but nothing comes. Instead, Alec just straightens a little, gaze flitting around as he takes a breath.

Magnus watches him, waiting. He glances around them, as though Alec may be waiting for someone or something, as well. But no, none of the people walking back and forth seem too interested in the two men standing by the window. Magnus turns back to Alec, presses his lips together in a slightly awkward smile.

"Did you want something?" he asks, with some hesitation. He doesn't mean to sound rude, and thankfully Alec doesn't seem to take it that way.

"No, I―" he starts, before cutting himself off. His gaze meets Magnus's for a second, before darting away again, and he clears his throat, folding his hands behind his back. He mouth turns down at the corners in a nonchalant frown as he shakes his head. He inhales deeply, parting his lips as if to speak, but then pressing them together again, and Magnus's brow furrows.

"Are you―?" he says, but just then, Ragnor returns, snapping the odd tension in half.

"Right," Ragnor says. "All set."

Just as he arrives, Alec seems to permanently lose whatever thread he was just trying to find. He's momentarily startled, before he gives both Ragnor and Magnus a nod, and then unceremoniously turns around and walks away from the dining hall. Magnus just stares, thoroughly confused.

"Oh dear," Ragnor says, eyes on Alec's back as he leaves. "What on earth did you do to poor Mr. Lightwood?"

Magnus shakes his head, completely baffled.

"I have no idea," he says, the blatant confusion shining through in his tone, and Ragnor makes a noise of consideration.

"Very well," he says, all business. "Breakfast. Come along."

Magnus doesn't object, and his frown disappears―although Alec's odd behavior stays on his mind throughout the rest of the morning.

 

* * *

 

There is no shortage of entertainment at this place. While Ragnor proceeds to spend half the day at some symposium, Magnus keeps himself busy for a while by visiting the spa and getting a downright heavenly massage. It manages to unwind tense knots he didn't even know he had, and he leaves a much calmer, fuzzier person, he's sure.

He's surprised to see more than a few people there, and assumes that he's not the only plus-one brought along on this trip.

"Hey," someone says, just as Magnus prepares to leave the locker room, all changed out of the fluffy white robe. He recognizes Raj from last night, and gives him a small smile.

"Hello," he says. Raj gestures at the robe left behind.

"Taking full advantage, huh?" he asks good-naturedly, referring to the splendid amenities available. Magnus shrugs.

"What can I say," he says. "I appreciate the finer things in life."

Raj huffs a laugh.

"Especially when it's free, right?" he says, and Magnus cocks his head in agreement. Then he notices that Raj seems to have just left the gym.

"I thought everyone was at that conference thing?" he says, confused, and Raj makes a face.

"They are," he says. "Not me, though. I only got invited here because of Alec."

A sudden twinge of cold irritation takes Magnus completely by surprise, and he makes sure to quickly push away the instant interpretation of it as jealousy. Because why would he be jealous? Instead, he frowns.

"So you're...?" he says, gesturing vaguely, unsure how to ask it in a delicate way. It takes Raj a moment to understand, and when he does, his expression animates.

"Oh!" he says hurriedly, shaking his head. "No, that's not― I'm more of an assistant. I mean, I'm here for work. Just not―" He gestures a little awkwardly. "Just not quite qualified to hang out with the higher-ups."

He cocks his head, and Magnus nods, eyebrows raised.

"Right," he says with a small smile, suddenly a little embarrassed for assuming. "I'm sorry, I just― I didn't mean to offend."

"Not offended," Raj says, shaking his head. He smiles a little. "I get it. I mean, he's... Yeah. But no, that's not what it is."

Magnus narrows his eyes a bit. So far, he hasn't heard any mention of Alec's preferences, aside from the comment he overheard Jace make that night they all first met. Raj's reaction doesn't exactly disprove Magnus's assumption that Alec indeed is into guys, though.

"He's what?" Magnus asks, involuntarily curious, but disguising it as amusement. Raj shakes his head, taking the bait.

"He's a good guy," he says, with a half-shrug. "And a good boss, but don't tell him I said that. He's a pretty decent friend, too."

Magnus tilts his head, curiosity spiking.

"Oh?" he says, and Raj nods.

"Yeah," he says. "He's the kind who's got your back."

Magnus keeps his expression neutral, keeps up trying to not seem too interested.

"Sounds like a swell guy," he says, unable to keep his tone non-sarcastic.

"Hey," Raj says, a little defensively but still with ease. "I know he doesn't necessarily come off that way, but he is." Raj's eyebrows rise as something occurs to him. "He even saved his friend from a gold digger, not too long ago. Well, he's more like his brother, I guess."

Magnus feels himself tense.

"What do you mean?" he asks, some of said tension seeping into his tone.

"Jace," Raj says, oblivious to Magnus's reaction. "He was seeing this girl who was bad news, apparently. Not surprising, though."

Magnus processes that for a moment.

"So Alec broke them up?" He can't help the stunned, albeit calm, outrage in his tone, and Raj frowns.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds horrible," he says with some hesitation, as though confused. "Sometimes you just gotta step in and help a friend. That's all he did."

"But they're done," Magnus says, phrasing it somewhere halfway between a statement and a question. He wants it confirmed, but also desperately wants Raj to prove him wrong.

"Yeah, I guess," Raj says with another shrug. "Plenty of fish in the sea though, right?"

He lightly smacks Magnus's arm with the back of his hand, and Magnus's glances down at the movement with the slightest offense at the unwelcome touch. Raj doesn't seem to notice, however. Instead, he just throws Magnus an easy smile.

"See ya," he says, before making his way to a vacant locker at the far end of the room. Magnus, meanwhile, can't ignore the simmering anger that's suddenly building in his chest.

 

* * *

 

Magnus tries to calm down, he really does, but after an hour or so of restless pacing and trying to relax, he realizes that trying is pointless. He's too wound-up, conflicted and angry and hurt and disappointed, but mostly annoyed, and he just _cannot_ put his finger on why. All he knows is that it's Alec's fault, one way or another, and that is frustrating all on its own.

So much for calm and fuzzy.

Going for a run always seems like a good idea when there's tension to be released, granting an opportunity to channel it into something useful and stimulating. Not to mention, the grounds here are definitely different from the cityscape Magnus is used to, so it would be a pity not to take advantage of it.

The winding paths and rolling slopes Magnus saw as he and Ragnor arrived yesterday are even more inspiring up close. There's a silence here that just can't be found in New York City, and as much as Magnus loves all that constant noise, some silence might do him some good, right now. It makes him lose track of time, his body moving on its own, feet pounding against the ground as he makes his way through trees and high grass. He ends up doing a lap around the small lake, but just as he's halfway through another, the sky opens up above.

It happens suddenly, the heavy gray sky―which he noticed but ignored the moment he left the main building―cracking apart with a roll of thunder, and unleashing a heavy rainfall that leaves Magnus drenched in seconds. He curses under his breath, figures he could maybe power through it, but soon decides that this would be a bad idea. Puddles are already forming on the ground, and he's already pretty exhausted anyway, so he looks around for somewhere to wait it out. He finds refuge quickly, a white gazebo nestled by the edge of the lake, separated from the hotel by a grove of trees, and he makes his way toward it.

Magnus hurries up the small steps, the muddy ground exchanged for wet wood and the patter of rain on leaves exchanged for the beating of drops against a pointed, wooden roof. It's still soothing, and Magnus walks over to the railing. The lake is covered in thousands of ripples and smattering noise, the rain falling so hard that it creates a curtain of translucent white all around. It's actually quite beautiful, and Magnus takes a minute to catch his breath, leaning against the railing and feeling the cold rain still wet on his skin.

The sudden sound of footsteps behind him is jarring. He straightens, whips around, and somehow, his calm just explodes into a million pieces.

"Hi," Alec says, and Magnus just stares. His chest is heaving, and he can't help the exhausted, incredulous look on his face as he takes in Alec's appearance. _Of course,_ Alec is here. _Of course_ he is, drenched from head to toe and seemingly also in the middle of an afternoon run. He must have just started though, because Magnus didn't see him earlier, and he's barely out of breath. Not that it matters. Because he's _here,_ for whatever damn reason, and Magnus has no idea how to feel about that.

Magnus allows himself to process this turn of events for a few moments, while Alec patiently waits for him to reply. When Magnus doesn't, Alec exhales, glancing up at the ceiling of the gazebo, as though unsure where to look. He gestures at it.

"Nice hiding spot," he says, and Magnus groans, suddenly wishes he weren't currently makeup-free, wearing running clothes and drenched in both sweat and rain. It's really not ideal, and just seeing this guy's face is making it worse.

"Why are you here?" he says before he can stop himself, mostly just thinking out loud, but his voice still full of tired irritation. Shockingly, though, Alec doesn't seem too offended by it.

"Because of you," he says instead, a strange edge to his voice, as he looks back at Magnus. "You're pretty much the only reason I'm at this stupid resort, at all."

Magnus pauses.

"I don't understand," he says dumbly, and Alec furrows his brow, like he's frustrated.

"I just―" he starts. Then he stops, exhales. He licks his lips. "I've been thinking."

"Good for you," Magnus says, when Alec doesn't immediately elaborate. He makes sure to keep his tone as uninterested as possible, though he can't deny that there is something inherently intriguing about being alone like this with an attractive person. Regardless of how much he hates said person. This insufferable, tall person with amazing hair, even when it's wet. He sighs. "About?"

"You," Alec once again surprises him by saying. Magnus blinks, but mostly hides his stunned reaction.

"Me?" he asks flatly.

"Yes." Alec straightens a little where he stands, displaying complete confidence, the same unwavering kind that Magnus is so used to seeing in him. "I'm kind of... into you, I guess. And I know I shouldn't be, I've tried not to think about it. It's a bad idea, just generally."

Magnus just stares, completely taken by surprise. But Alec continues, as though afraid to lose his resolve, gesturing with his hand as he avoids Magnus's eyes.

"You're not exactly the kind of person I should go for," Alec says, in an even tone, as though to make this confession easier. Then his voice falters, however, if just a little. "For a lot of reasons. I'm not― I'm not out, or anything, for starters. And _being_ out would be a terrible idea, and I just―" He cuts himself off, inhales sharply, deeply, looks down at the damp wooden floor. Then he looks up at Magnus. "But I am into you. And I was, well..." He clears his throat. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out, sometime."

Magnus just keeps staring, completely dumbstruck, as a particularly loud crack of thunder rolls overhead.

"What?" he eventually asks, shocked confusion no doubt clear in both his expression and his voice. Alec blinks.

"Go out," he says, a little awkwardly. "With me. Sometime."

Magnus's mouth falls open.

"You're asking me out?" he says in soft disbelief, and Alec looks a little confused now, as well as awkward. Whatever confidence he had a minute ago seems to be slowly fading.

"Yes," he says, the confidence still contrastingly present in his voice. "I am."

Magnus keeps staring for another few seconds, and exhales.

"Wow," he says, uttering the first thing that comes to mind. "Unbelievable."

Alec looks more confused now, almost a little hurt, but Magnus won't let it deter him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Alec says, frowning, and Magnus shakes his head.

"No," he says, simply.

"No, what?"

"No." Magnus is resolute. "I won't go out with you."

Alec stares, lips parting slightly, as though processing Magnus's words.

"Okay," he eventually says, slowly. His frown stays. "May I ask why you're so determined not to?"

Magnus can't help but scoff.

"Really?" he says. "I mean, not only did you lead with all the reasons you _shouldn't_ be into me, before actually asking me out, there's so much more to it. You must know that."

"Like what?" Alec asks, and Magnus bristles.

"Are you kidding?" he says. "You mess up my friend's relationship, and you expect me to just, what? Fall into your arms because you've charmed me with your grand, romantic speech?"

"I didn't―" Alec starts, frown deepening, but Magnus cuts him off.

"What, you're telling me you _didn't_ break them up?" he says, and Alec's gaze hardens. He doesn't need Magnus to specify who he's talking about.

"Jace can make his own decisions, okay?" he says flatly. "He thought Clary wasn't serious about him, and that's it."

"Well, I wonder where he got that idea," Magnus retorts, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Alec says dryly, and Magnus throws his hands up.

"Glad you finally caught on," he says. "Maybe I'm just a tad upset that you convinced your brother to dump the best girl he'll ever find, and make both of them miserable."

"I did it for his own good," Alec says evenly. "Trust me."

Magnus presses his lips together, grits his teeth. He's seething, somehow boiling with a kind of frustration he did not have a minute ago, so desperate to say or do something that will faze this guy and his perfect composure. But he's coming up empty. Then he does think of something, rearing up from the back of his mind. He swallows, licks his lips.

"Were your reasons as noble when you helped ruin Morgenstern's career?" he eventually says, his voice lower now, but with clear traces of spite. This time, he does get a proper reaction out of Alec, a flicker of something harsh crossing those handsome features. The young man steps closer, crowding Magnus's space.

"Excuse me?" he says, voice low with controlled anger, but Magnus doesn't falter. He keeps their gazes locked, tilting his head up just slightly to keep his eyes on Alec's. They're hazel, and quite lovely. He pushes the stray thought aside.

"You heard me," he says. "He told me what you did, what your parents did―"

"What _we_ did?" Alec interrupts disbelievingly, and Magnus just stares at him.

"Really?" he says. "Can't take responsibility for that, either?"

Alec doesn't immediately reply, just glares. There's something hard about his expression.

"That's what you think of me?" he asks steadily. "Thanks for clarifying that, I guess. Sorry for bruising your ego by being honest."

"Honest?" Magnus says, genuinely shocked by the blunt comment.

"That's what it's really about, right?" Alec says. "The great Magnus Bane hearing _one_ unflattering thing about himself, and the world falls apart."

"Oh, I'm the one who―?" Magnus starts, outraged, but he doesn't get much further.

"You think I _want_ to feel like this?" Alec moves in even closer. There's more than just tension in him now; there's frustration, anger, both at Magnus and himself, and something else Magnus can't discern. His gaze is unwavering, his body a heavy presence in this somehow enclosed space. "That I wouldn't just stop if I could? I can't, okay? I'm not happy about all the things about you that make this a bad idea, but it is what it is, and I'm trying to deal with it."

"You're really not helping your case," Magnus says in a low voice, shaking his head. His own anger hasn't abated, has if anything only grown stronger by Alec's thinly veiled insults. He doesn't know where this is coming from, or why he can't seem to shut up. Perhaps it's the many weeks of frustration, desperate for an outlet. "You know, from the second we met, I've been utterly baffled by what an insufferable asshole you are. I have no idea why you'd think I'd ever even dream of dating you."

The words are out before he can stop them, and Magnus finds himself having leaned in closer as he said them, invading Alec's personal space just like he invaded Magnus's. The man just watches him, keeps their gazes locked, without a word, and Magnus feels the slightest twinge of regret at what he just said. His anger is ebbing out, ever so slightly, and he just watches Alec's face, the rain thundering against the ground and the water around them, filling the palpably tense silence with white noise.

Alec inhales deeply through his nose, eyes skimming over Magnus's face as he opens his mouth, as though to speak. The small movement draws Magnus's gaze to his lips, involuntarily. They look soft, inviting, and there's a stutter in Magnus's chest as Alec tilts his head just a little, as though considering something.

 _He's so close._ The thought is intrusive, unwelcome, but it invades Magnus's mind all the same, his breath becoming shallow with some kind of anticipation. He's suddenly very aware of Alec's presence, the smell of him, the way his muscles tense and move underneath his wet shirt, the way raindrops have scattered across his face. Magnus looks back up at his eyes. Those lovely, hazel eyes.

Alec sighs, and just like that, the spell is broken.

"Sorry for wasting your time." It's all he says, in an even, low voice, before he simply turns around and leaves. And Magnus just watches him go, the rain suddenly ten times louder around him than before.

 

* * *

 

Magnus makes a mental note of taking baths, more often. The tub in his and Ragnor's shared bathroom at this place is nothing if not luxurious, somehow ergonomically shaped, and with a shelf full of various oils and bubble bath blends for him to choose from. And since Ragnor is busy napping or something, like the old grouch that he is, Magnus is taking some time for himself.

The bubbles seemed like an obvious choice, and Magnus is currently submerged in hot water, covered by a thick layer of white foam that smells like sandalwood. _Pink sandalwood,_ according to the bottle, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.

Magnus slides a little further down into the water, the foam so overwhelming in quantity that he's sure he must have poured in a little too much bubble bath when filling up the tub. That said, it does act like a nice, pleasantly-scented barrier, obscuring half his field of vision from this vantage point. He even bothered to light the candles attached to the holders on the bathroom walls, and the glass of wine perched next to the tub is definitely helping his mood.

His mood, which hasn't really managed to balance out since this afternoon, when he somehow ended up being yelled at in the rain.

Not that he didn't have that coming. He wasn't exactly lenient himself, and he probably would have reacted just like Alec did, were their roles reversed.

 _Alec. Alexander._ Magnus still has no idea what to make of him.

Magnus carefully takes the wine glass from the little stool beside the tub―it's not even a stool, but more of an ornate, tiny table, as though meant for exactly this kind of usage―and sips the drink. _Damn it,_ even the wine is excellent. Everything here is so lovely and high-end, and he's finding it increasingly irritating that none of it is enough to distract him.

How did that guy get under his skin, like this? Magnus doesn't even like him. He's arrogant, and stiff, and seems to not have the highest opinion of Magnus, either. He's hot, though. You'd have to be blind to miss that.

Where the hell did that confession today even come from? Magnus was so taken aback by it that he didn't know how else to respond, except with anger. After everything Alec has done, how dare he? How dare he ask, and how dare he assume that Magnus would say yes?

Magnus groans and closes his eyes, sinks low enough into the water that it rises just past his chin, while he makes sure to keep his glass above the surface. This tub is giant, and so comfortable. It's amazing.

Where did Alec go, after their conversation? Magnus didn't see him when he returned to the hotel, not that he was looking. He didn't see him at dinner, either, which may have been a little more odd. Maybe he's taking a bath, too. Taking some time to relax.

Magnus can't help but scoff quietly. He can't imagine any scenario where Alec would be relaxed. Aside from maybe making a particularly profitable deal, or beating up a punching bag.

Or maybe other activities.

A warning bell rings somewhere in the distance of Magnus's mind, the moment the thought surfaces. Thinking about anyone while taking a bath is a bad idea. Especially Alec, and _especially_ Alec in any kind of adult-rated situation.

Magnus blames the extended dry spell he's been having, for not stopping the thought in its tracks. Instead, he remembers how lovely Alec's shoulders looked earlier, wet fabric plastered to his skin, how his hair fell over his eyes when drenched with rain. It sends a nice, warm shiver along Magnus's body, which has nothing to do with the hot water, or the wine.

What would take for someone like Alec to loosen up, to let go? To let loose all that pent-up tension?

It's when Magnus's mind really starts to wander that he opens his eyes, swallowing hard. He looks down at his wine glass, swirls the drink around. _Nope_ , he thinks, as he takes a big sip. The bath is definitely not the right place for this.

It's still nice, though. He just reminds himself to take a cold shower, once he's done.

 

* * *

 

The weekend has gone by too fast―that's all Magnus has to say about it. It's been too fast, and too much has happened, and it didn't serve the purpose it was meant to, at all. He came here to get away from things, to relax. But despite all the incredible amenities available at this place, this weekend has been anything but relaxing.

Magnus almost feels resentful toward Alec for ruining this for him. For confronting him like that and rendering Magnus unable to fully enjoy his last night here.

_Asshole._

While Magnus has never been the spartan type, he actually didn't pack too much for this trip. When midday rolls around, he's already ready to leave, and he surveys his room one last time to make sure nothing is left behind. A knock on the door brings him out into the main room, and he rolls his eyes at Ragnor obviously having forgotten his key somewhere while running whatever last-minute errand he was just on. With a selection of snarky comments prepared, Magnus turns the handle, and opens the door―only to be faced with a very stunned-looking Alec.

Magnus can't move, even as Alec's expression smoothes out into something harder and less emotive, washing away any surprise he may feel at seeing Magnus, and replacing it with neutrality.

"Don't worry," Alec says, with some bitterness. "I'm not here to make more unreasonable requests."

It's a dry statement that hits Magnus hard, for some reason, and he averts his eyes as he turns away and heads back into the room. He ends up rather far away from the door, and Alec hesitantly makes his way inside. Magnus looks up when he hears Alec sigh heavily; it almost sounds sad, rather than angry, and Magnus feels vaguely guilty for causing that.

"I just came to drop this off, for the Blackwell deal," Alec says evenly, holding up a thick envelope and putting it down on the nearest side table. It's clearly something business-related for Ragnor, and Magnus has no idea why that disappoints him.

Alec briefly meets Magnus's eye, his expression guarded, before he turns around to leave, and Magnus feels his heart sink. He's not sure what he expected, but this definitely does feel a lot like disappointment, and he looks back down at the floor.

When Alec stops mid-step on his way out the door, however, the heavy feeling is exchanged for another dose of surprise.

"You know what," Alec says, with a heavy sigh. "I just gotta―" He turns around, and their eyes meet. He looks tired, but determined, like he'd rather be anywhere else but has no choice, right now. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I just need to say something."

Magnus swallows, unsure of where Alec is going with this, especially after their interaction yesterday. All the same, he nods, and Alec looks just the slightest bit relieved.

He takes a deep breath, as though trying to find the words. He licks his lips, looks away.

"Okay," he starts. "About the Morgenstern thing... It concerns my sister. Izzy. She's doing great now, but she didn't always. She struggled for a while to get her music and her career off the ground. It's a rough business, and it wasn't easy." Alec takes another breath, looks back at Magnus. "Valentine Morgenstern approached her a few years ago. He said he was a producer, that he'd make her a star, and all that crap. She was fifteen at the time, and he knew exactly what to say to make her believe him. Apparently, he told her not tell me, or our parents, because we wouldn't understand and would just hold her back. But really, there were other reasons."

Alec sighs heavily. Magnus gets the impression that he hasn't really told this story before, and that he's trying to make it come out in a smooth, non-clunky way. In fact, this may be the most Magnus has ever heard him speak at all, so far.

"Way back before I was even born, my parents and Morgenstern were business partners," Alec continues. "It was before the company really took off. A lot of stuff happened, but long story short, Morgenstern asked to borrow a lot of money, and my parents helped him. He never paid them back. He just took the money and left, and my parents were almost ruined. They cut all ties with him after that, because there was no way they could get their money back, or prove what he'd done."

Alec holds Magnus's gaze steadily, as Magnus just listens, without a word.

"Izzy didn't know about that," Alec says, "because my parents didn't feel that she needed to know. But I knew. And if we'd known that Morgenstern had approached her, we would've stopped him." He pauses. "I found out by accident. Thankfully, Izzy hadn't signed anything, but if she had, Morgenstern would have practically owned her. And he would have stolen from her, just like he stole from our parents, and probably from a bunch of other people, too. We scared him off, but the damage was already done. Izzy didn't lose anything, not really, but she was heartbroken. She felt cheated and used, and just... ashamed. It crushed her. She didn't even pick up her guitar again for a year."

Magnus takes it all in, and Alec sighs.

"So I have my reasons for all that," he says. "Even if you don't agree with them. Just thought you should know."

He sounds defeated, and Magnus watches as he turns his back. He's almost out the door, once again, when he hesitates.

"And, uh..." Alec says, half-facing Magnus. "The thing with Jace, and Clary. I didn't mean to―" He gestures, frowning as he searches for the words. He looks up at Magnus. "It wouldn't be the first time a girl was into him, just for his money. It's happened before, and he's been hurt by it before, and... I just wanted to keep him safe, I guess."

With that, Alec leaves, and Magnus just stands there for at least a full minute. He barely even notices Ragnor eventually enter the room, and his friend jumps in surprise at seeing him there, so still.

"Good lord," Ragnor says, recovering from the shock and making his way past Magnus, into his room. "Were you in my room? I told you, I didn't take your brocade jacket. It's gaudy, I wouldn't even know what to do with it."

Magnus doesn't reply, just keeps staring at the closed door, a strange ache in his chest making him want to never move from this spot, and also prompting him to rush after Alec in some kind of impulse he can't explain. Both options seem pointless, however, so he just settles for the first one.

Ragnor clearly notices Magnus's odd expression, and comes to stand beside him, as if to get a proper look at his face.

"Are you alright?" he asks. His tone is more sincere than Magnus is used to hearing it, and he considers an appropriate answer, but none comes.

He takes a breath.

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As previously mentioned, I know little to nothing about these characters' professions, so I'm sure I got some stuff wrong as to how real estate and generally business-y things work, but *shrug*, I tried (and sshh it's for the sake of the story). I was just excited to do the rain scene tbh. Stay tuned for the third and final chapter!
> 
> Visit me on [the twitters](https://twitter.com/leMonocleFox) and please yell at me using _#wigbfic_. Also, updating this while irl adulting can be hard work, so if you feel like helping me out, check out [my tumblr](http://lemonoclefox.tumblr.com/wigb) ( _#wigbfic_ works there, too) and maybe treat me to a cup of coffee through the button I've got there?  <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, friends, at the end. Well, like I've said before, I'll be adding an epilogue _but still_. This is the conclusion of the three-part, self-indulgent slow-burn romcom this fic has become, and I hope you've enjoyed it. The response has been unbelievable, and I'm just so happy that my silly story has resonated with people. Thank you  <3 and if anyone wants to yell about this fic (an endeavor which I always support), please use _#wigbfic_
> 
> I've upped the number of chapters to 4, to accommodate the aforementioned epilogue, and while I can't say exactly when it'll be posted, it shouldn't be too long. Also, I'll be adding a few oneshots from Alec's POV within the story, just for funsies. Enjoy!

Returning to New York feels strange. It has only been a couple of days, but it's as though Magnus's entire world has been knocked off its axis in just that short time. Things feel different now than they did when he left, Friday afternoon.

His timing is impeccable, however. Not too long after his own homecoming, Clary returns from her own little trip―the moment Magnus sees her enter the bakery at the start of his morning shift, he can tell she's feeling better. It becomes even more evident as she throws her arms around him with a grin.

"Look at you," Magnus says happily, hugging Clary tightly and smiling as they pull apart. He pushes back a strand of red hair that's fallen over her face. "All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You have a nice time?"

Clary nods, hugging Luke as well.

"I did," she says, and sighs softly. "You were right. Getting away did me some good."

Magnus hums.

"I'm glad," he says. He glances around the café area, and gets a nod from Luke that says he can manage alone, out here. Magnus takes the permission and retreats back into the kitchen, Clary in tow. He lowers his voice just slightly. "Found some distractions?"

Clary half-shrugs.

"Didn't need any," she says. "Not really." Magnus gives her a doubtful look, and she gives him a tired one, in return. "I'm serious. I've barely even thought about Jace."

"I didn't ask anything about Jace," Magnus points out.

"Well, still," Clary says, a little embarrassed. "Doesn't matter. I'm over it."

"Uh-huh," Magnus says. "Totally over it."

"Yes," Clary insists. "I've been busy with other stuff. Important stuff." Magnus nods slowly, his mouth curving in a mock-serious frown. Clary takes about five seconds of it, before she huffs a laugh, shaking her head. "Whatever. What about you? Anything fun happen while I was gone?"

Magnus has a split-second flash of a flustered Alec, rain and raised voices, solemn words spoken in a private room―all accompanied by a strange twinge of warmth and sadness. He shakes his head, smiles easily.

"I'm afraid not," he says. "I may have finally found the perfect shimmer highlighter, but that's about it."

"Oh," Clary says, intrigued and thankfully oblivious to Magnus's evasion. "You need to show me, sometime."

Magnus hums in thought, frowning as he places two fingers by Clary's chin to angle her face.

"I don't know," he says seriously, regarding her cheekbones. "You're so pale, highlighter's really just wasted on you." Clary slaps his hand away with a smile, which Magnus returns. "I might have some contouring-tips, though."

"I'll take what I can get," Clary says, and Magnus's smile widens as he turns back to the batch of profiteroles he was working on before she arrived.

"So how are Jem and Tessa?" he asks, Clary leaning against the counter to watch him work.

"They're good," she says. "Working away at that secret project."

"I thought you were helping with it?"

"I was," Clary confirms. "But only with _part_ of it. It's a mixed-media kind of thing. Jem has written some great music for it, I can't wait."

Magnus nods, a fond feeling in his chest. He's not an expert on the matter, but in his opinion, Jem is one of the best violinists out there, regardless of how humble the guy is about it.

"They're actually stopping by, later," Clary says, nudging Magnus gently in the arm. He turns to her.

"Really?" he asks, pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah, we arrived together," Clary says. "They just had some stuff to do before coming here."

Magnus is happy to hear it; he hasn't seen his friends in some time. And as though summoned by Clary's mention, the two show up at Fairchild's not even half an hour later, as effortlessly casual-stylish as ever. Magnus exits the kitchen when he hears them arrive, and Tessa immediately spots him, attacking him with a hug.

"Took you long enough," Magnus says, hugging her tightly.

"I know," Tessa says apologetically. "Always busy, aren't we?"

Magnus shakes his head.

"And here I thought you'd still at least make time for _me_ ," he says, pulling away from his friend. "But no, apparently you'll only come here when forced."

Jem, standing beside his wife, heaves a long-suffering sigh, a small smile on his face.

"Always so dramatic," he says, but hugs Magnus all the same. As ever, his presence alone seems to have a soothing effect on anyone close enough to feel it.

"Apology accepted," Magnus says, making Jem laugh softly.

It really is nice to see his friends again, and Magnus does his best to actually make some conversation with them while at the same time not leaving the kitchen and his duties for more than two minutes at a time. It's only when Simon comes bursting into the bakery, startling a few of the patrons, that their quality time is interrupted. He makes his way up to the counter, where he politely waits for the current customer to finish paying for their order, and for Jocelyn to hand them their change. Once the customer is gone, Simon takes the opportunity.

"Guess what just happened," he says, practically vibrating in an effort to contain his excitement.

"Don't bother guessing," Raphael interjects dryly as he unloads some fresh bread into the baskets neatly attached to the wall behind the counter. "Give him a second, he'll tell you whether you want him to, or not."

Simon sighs, disappointed in his boyfriend.

"Why must you rain on my parade?" he says, and Raphael shrugs.

"Maybe I'm just jealous," he says, but the flat tone with which he says it is nothing but teasing. Simon makes a grumbling sound, even as Raphael leans across the counter and presses a kiss to his lips, with a tiny smile.

"So, anyone wanna guess?" Simon says, turning back to the others while Raphael heads back into the kitchen. No one voices a guess, but just like Raphael predicted, they don't really need to. Simon can't seem to contain himself. "Okay, so. Rock Solid Panda has booked, like, a bunch of gigs for the next week or so. Like, every night, new place. All over."

"Like a tour?" Jocelyn asks. She sounds surprised and confused, but happily so.

"Well, I don't know if you can call it a tour if it's inside the city limits," Simon says. "But yeah. Kind of."

His excitement is obvious, despite his vague attempt at downplaying how big of a deal this is.

"That's great, Simon!" Clary pulls him into a hug, while Magnus, Jem, and Tessa offer their congratulations as well. "About time."

"I know, right?" Simon says, grinning. "It's gonna be awesome." He pulls away from Clary and swiftly heads into the kitchen. "Babe, did you hear?"

He trails off as he animatedly tells Raphael the news, and Clary laughs fondly.

"And on that note," Jem says, "we really must be going."

Magnus frowns.

"Leaving so soon?" he says in mock hurt.

"We're just gonna run some errands while we're here," Tessa assures him. "You should come with, this afternoon."

Magnus makes a noise of hesitation, a little surprised at the offer.

"No, I'm good," he says. He doesn't mean to sound impolite, but to be honest, he doesn't really feel like going outside at all right now. It's safe in here, where he can keep busy and pretend that his biggest issue is perfecting the macarons.

"You sure?" Clary prompts. "You _were_ just complaining that you never see each other."

Magnus narrows his eyes at her, internally cursing her logic.

"We're staying for a couple of days," Tessa explains. "But we're gonna be pretty busy that whole time, so it would be nice to hang out for a bit today."

Magnus considers it, sees the expectant expressions. He sighs.

"Fine," he says. "You've convinced me. I shall magnanimously grace you with my presence."

"So generous," Jem says seriously, and Tessa smiles as she gently pushes him toward the door. She looks back at Magnus.

"See you after lunch," she says, and with that, they leave.

 

It's a while later that Magnus finds himself standing next to Clary in the kitchen, getting some assistance with a batch of custom cupcakes that have been ordered for a baby shower. Raphael is on an early lunch break, and it's just the two of them in here.

"You don't have to help, you know," Magnus says. "You're not even supposed to be working today."

"I just had my time off," Clary says, delicately placing a small, green marzipan rose on a frosting-covered cupcake. "Thanks to you. The least I can do is help you enjoy your afternoon."

"I always do," Magnus says.

"I mean, outside this kitchen." Clary gives him a pointed look. "I admire your work ethic, but turning down an excuse to socialize is weird, when it comes to you." She pauses. "You sure there's nothing going on?"

Magnus shakes his head.

"Nothing at all," he says, turning his attention to the pastries. "I told you."

"Yeah," Clary says under her breath. She doesn't seem to entirely believe him, but also seems to decide to drop the matter, for now. Magnus imagines that she's still rather preoccupied with her own stuff at the moment, anyway, no matter what she says.

A few minutes of silent working pass, and Magnus glances at his friend. He feels like he maybe _should_ say something, that he should at least try to talk about this whole Alec mess, whatever it is. He's not even sure of it himself, but he needs a second opinion, an honest one. Even though saying any of this out loud will make it real and even more impossible to ignore, maybe it'll help.

Magnus hesitates, decides to take the leap.

"I saw Alec," he finally says. He's not sure why he says it or why it might mean anything, but it slips out anyway. "At the resort."

"Oh?" Clary says, genuinely interested and surprised, and she throws him a glance. Magnus nods. He tries to find a way of putting his thoughts into words, to turn the conflicted feelings in his chest into something more coherent―but just as he opens his mouth, Clary beats him to it. "Did he mention Jace?"

Her tone is full of forced nonchalance, and she doesn't mean anything bad by asking, Magnus knows. After all, how could Clary―or anyone―possibly know how strangely involved Alec Lightwood has become in Magnus's life? It makes perfect sense for her to ask about Jace, to reach for such an obvious connection.

But still, something resentful inside Magnus stirs, and he takes a deep breath. He keeps his gaze averted as he picks up the baking sheet in front of him.

"No," he says, making his way past Clary. "He didn't."

 

* * *

 

Magnus is glad he took Jem and Tessa up on their offer. While the Fairchild's kitchen is a nice place to escape the world for hours on end, it's nice to get outside, too. Especially in the company of good friends he feels like he doesn't see nearly often enough.

After lunch, and after browsing some shops and running some of the errands on his friends' agenda, Magnus finds himself in a rather good mood. The weather is nice, they're walking around the city, and best of all, there have been no Alec-reminders so far.

So of course, fate decides to intervene.

"Right," Tessa says, checking her phone. "Maia's around here. We said we'd go say hi."

"What's she up to?" Magnus asks. He doesn't know Maia particularly well―they've only met a few times, and mostly through mutual friends. But he likes her, and they get along.

"A photo shoot," Tessa explains. "Some spread for some magazine, about an indie singer. I can't remember her name."

Tessa only has time to frown in thought for about a second, before Jem cuts in.

"Lightwood," he supplies, and Magnus tenses.

"Isabelle Lightwood?" he asks, dreading the predictable reply.

"That's the one," Tessa says. Magnus purses his lips slightly, thinking, and Tessa notices. "Why?"

_Shit._

"Nothing," Magnus says, a bit too nonchalantly, even for him. He's pretty sure he's not convincing anyone, least of all his friends. "I just― Let's not?"

Jem frowns.

"Let's _not_ visit Maia?" he asks, confused, and Magnus gestures airily.

"No, I just mean," he says, "she's working. Maybe we should just stop by when she's done?"

"She asked us to come by now," Tessa says. " _While_ she's working. She's got a busy schedule, and we never get to see each other as it is. This was the only time while we're here that she could see us."

_Of course._

"What's the problem?" Jem asks, as always seeing right through Magnus's attempt to play off this whole thing as just consideration for an acquaintance's professional duties.

"No problem," Magnus says, a little more convincingly this time. "I'm just not a big fan of... that family."

"Understandable," Tessa says, nodding. "Clary did mention something about that, after all."

She says it a little ruefully, and Jem gets a sympathetic expression.

"Exactly," Magnus says, selfishly relieved that he can blame his aversion to the Lightwoods on Clary's heartbreak. "Not a fan. And Alec is no better than his brother."

He can't stop the words from coming out, and he immediately wants to smack his forehead with his palm. Here he was trying _not_ to think about Alec, and this shit happens.

"How so?" Tessa asks, genuinely interested, by the sound of it.

"Oh, you know," Magnus says vaguely. "He's just―" He gestures, struggling to find the words. Just a week ago, he would have used words like _arrogant_ and _obnoxious,_ but now he's just coming up empty. "He's so..."

"What?" Tessa says.

"He's so _rich_ ," Magnus blurts before he can stop himself, and Tessa snorts in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Oh my god," she says with a laugh. "Since when are you such a snob?"

"I'm not," Magnus defends himself hurriedly, albeit with some embarrassment. He can't believe he just said that.

Jem _tsk_ s at him.

"Objecting to Mr. Lightwood because of his wealth," he says solemnly, shaking his head. "Poor man can't help it, you know."

"It's not like he'll be there, anyway," Tessa says, looping her arm through Magnus's as they walk. "I'm sure he's got better things to do. We'll just see Maia, and then go. Okay?"

Magnus sighs, realizes that he doesn't really have any other choice. And how bad can it be? Tessa is right, just because Alec's sister is there doesn't mean Alec himself will be. There's nothing to worry about.

"Okay."

 

It's not a particularly impressive building. Several stories high, but with an indie-feel to it that Magnus knows suits Maia just as well as it probably suits Isabelle, given her image and preferred genre. Once inside, Tessa and Jem lead the way up to the second floor, where they find a big, open space prepared with lights and equipment and various backdrops. There are also people all over the place, setting things up. Magnus has never been to a photo shoot, at least not in any professional sense, but it's clear that it's quite the affair.

"Hey, guys," a familiar voice says, and Magnus turns around to see Maia walking toward them. She spots Magnus then, and looks a little surprised, albeit pleasantly so. "Magnus."

"Maia," he replies, with a smile. "How nice to see you."

"Likewise," Maia says, smiling back. "Uh, I'm just about to get started. Just waiting for the woman of the hour. But you guys, make yourselves at home. I'll get some coffee, you want any?"

Magnus and Tessa accept, while Jem predictably asks for tea, and Maia leaves them once again to explore the space.

It's not very impressive at first sight, much like the building's exterior, but once Magnus gets his coffee and starts wandering around the place, the impression starts to change. Jem and Tessa stay with Maia, caught up in conversation, while Magnus takes in all the excellent photos hanging on the walls. There's a hallway leading to what he assumes must be a lounge area, and he finds himself walking down along it as he follows the trail of art.

It's clear that Maia has taken at least half of these photos; her style is distinct, and she's very good. Most of the photos depict local artists and singers, all of them done tastefully and with lots of character―there are even a few of Isabelle. Magnus only recognizes her because Simon insisted on showing him pictures after they first heard of her relation to the Lightwoods, and he must admit she's a very beautiful young woman.

A couple of Isabelle's photos are from photo shoots like the one today, with striking poses and excellent angles, but there's also one from what Magnus guesses must be some kind of award gala. A smaller one, by the looks of it, but the framing of the shot makes it look grand. It shows Isabelle grinning broadly with an award clutched in her hands, and there are people around her. One in particular catches Magnus's eye, and he just stares for a few moments.

Alec practically blurs into the background, next to the radiant Isabelle, just one of the many people surrounding her and offering congratulations. But Magnus still finds his gaze drawn to that left-hand side of the photo, to the tall man he barely knows. Alec isn't even looking at the camera. Instead, he's looking at his sister, smiling fondly with a rather unguarded expression, the softness of it a sharp contrast to the way he stands up straight with his hands behind his back. The expression looks private, but proud, and Magnus finds himself just gazing at it for a very long time.

"Is it accurate?" Tessa asks cheekily, appearing beside Magnus and nudging him with her elbow, pulling him out of his trance. Magnus inhales sharply, blinks.

"What?" he says, turning to her. She points at Alec in the photo, and Magnus realizes sheepishly how obvious his staring must have been.

"You know Alec?" Maia asks, joining them. Magnus gives an indifferent half-shrug.

"Not really," he says. He feels distracted, and when he turns back to the photo on the wall, he feels even more so. "Just a little."

"He's a good-looking guy," Maia says absently, but it sounds more like a question than a statement. "And pretty cool. I guess."

Magnus nods by a fraction.

"Yeah," he says. He doesn't want to think about how his voice softens slightly as he says it, his mind wandering as he gazes at Alec's face. At his smile, as Alec in turn gazes proudly and protectively at his sister.

Thankfully, Magnus is left with his thoughts, however reluctant they may be, when Maia wanders off to show Jem and Tessa something else they're curious about. Magnus, meanwhile, continues down the hall, tearing himself away from that one particular photo.

He was right about there being a lounge area at the end; it's an open space with interconnecting rooms, and it's actually rather homey. The soft sound of an acoustic guitar just makes it even more so, and Magnus slowly follows the music, curious about its source. He shouldn't be surprised when he spots Isabelle sitting there in the corner, plucking at the strings of a guitar. Her attention is so focused on it that she doesn't even notice Magnus watching from just a few feet away, half-hidden behind an open doorway.

While Magnus easily saw the similarities between the Lightwood siblings in the photo, he has both a harder and easier time doing it now, seeing Isabelle in real life. She has a certain way of carrying herself, even just as she sits there, playing softly. It's relaxed, confident, different from the stiff self-assurance of her brother, but still just as real and solid. She's beautiful, long dark hair falling over her shoulder as she has gathered it all up on one side, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Magnus wonders if she's writing something new, or if she's just practicing. He should really make a point of listening to her music, sometime.

Magnus finds it rather peaceful, watching Isabelle play, listening to the soft sound of her guitar. Especially after hearing so much about this girl, it's somehow intriguing to see her in person.

It's only when someone else comes into view that Magnus finds himself tensing slightly. It's not until the person gently taps Isabelle's shoulder that Magnus realizes who it is, and his breath catches, just as Isabelle looks up in surprise. Her surprise is quickly replaced with overjoyed excitement, and she puts her guitar down in favor of leaping up and throwing her arms around Alec's shoulders.

Alec hugs her tightly, laughing against her hair, and for a few moments, Magnus just watches the two of them, full of curious warmth. There's so much affection there, so much love, and it's wonderful to see, so much so that Magnus can't help but smile a little.

Then Alec looks up, and spots him.

Magnus feels a cold chill plummet into his stomach, and he immediately turns around and leaves.

He does his best to not actually _run_ out of the room and down the stairs to the lobby, abandoning his friends as well as the Lightwoods, but that's really exactly what he's doing. He's running away from Alec, running away from the inevitable embarrassment that's sure to follow if he doesn't. He's running away from how his heart is suddenly pounding against his ribs in a way that is somehow entirely separate from the current stress or physical exertion.

Because it's a pleasant feeling―uncomfortable, but pleasant. Most of all, Magnus knows what it means, and he just can't deal with that right now. Not now, not with Alec.

He doesn't realize that Alec is actually following him until he's crossed the lobby, pushing the entrance door open and hurrying outside. And he only realizes because Alec actually calls out to him.

"Hey," he says, just the slightest hint of urgency in his voice. "Magnus."

Hearing Alec say his name shouldn't make his stomach flutter, but it does, and Magnus takes a deep breath, pushes those butterflies right down. Then he stops dead, braces himself, and turns around.

Alec's expression is odd; surprised, almost happily so. _Oh god_ , there's that flutter again.

"Hey," Alec says again, a little softer this time, as he reaches Magnus. He stops just a few feet away, at a respectable distance. He's not wearing a suit, for once. Instead, he's in the more casual attire of black jeans and a button-up shirt, and Magnus finds that it fits him just as well.

Magnus would feel more exposed about just standing here, right outside the entrance, on the sidewalk, but he doesn't. The people around them are clearly too busy with their own stuff to notice the awkward tension between himself and Alec.

Because it is awkward, Magnus thinks. But somehow, Alec still looks happy to see him. For some insane reason.

Magnus hesitates, the silence stretching on.

"I thought you―" Magnus starts.

"Are you―" Alec starts simultaneously, and they both stop. Another few seconds pass in complete silence, only broken by the bustling around them. Magnus swallows. He can't quite tell if Alec is as uncomfortable as he is; his expression is more open than usual, but still hard to read.

"I'm sorry, I―" Magnus blurts, gesturing at the building behind Alec. He doesn't feel quite as eloquent as he's used to. "My friends brought me, they know the photographer. I was just tagging along―"

"Magnus, you're allowed to be here," Alec says, something like soft amusement coloring his tone. He raises his eyebrows slightly, his expression surprisingly friendly. "I'm just surprised that you are."

He doesn't sound negatively surprised. Magnus involuntarily takes a deep breath, as though to steady himself.

"Yes, well," he says, determined to even out his tone. He absently fiddles with a ring on his hand. "I wasn't exactly expecting _you_ to be here."

"Yeah," Alec says, glancing back at the building. "I wasn't gonna be, just― I knew Izzy was back. Thought I'd surprise her."

Magnus smiles tightly with an eyebrow-raise. _It was a surprise, alright._

"Well, she seemed happy to see you," he says, and Alec smiles. _Damn it,_ it's such a nice smile. Crooked, almost bashful, but so sincere.

"Yeah," he says. "Hope so."

Magnus nods, swallows hard. He can't believe it's been barely a week since he last saw Alec. Considering how much he has thought about him since then, it feels like so much longer.

"So, uh," Alec says after a few moments. He rubs the back of his neck, and Magnus does his best not to eye the column of his throat as he angles his head, just slightly. "Your friends know Maia?"

"Yes," Magnus says. "Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs. Part of the Williamsburg elite." He says it jokingly, and Alec smiles a little. "Artists, musicians. I don't know if you've heard of them?"

"Can't say I have," Alec admits. "But I believe you."

Magnus smiles, and it's involuntarily done. He forces himself to tone it down.

"They've done some collaborations with Maia, in the past," he explains, gesturing at the building and referring to the photographer inside. "We were just stopping by to say hi."

Alec nods.

"Right," he says.

Magnus half-expects him to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he shifts his weight a little, puts his hands in his pockets, and Magnus has to take a moment. There's something so approachable about the gesture, something so much more relaxed than Alec's usual, soldier-like stance. It makes this whole conversation somehow feel more at ease, more honest. Magnus isn't sure how he feels about that.

"Uh," he starts, uncertain where to go from here. "I actually have to go."

Alec frowns.

"I thought you just got here," he says, and Magnus mentally curses at himself.

"Right," he says. "Yes. But something came up, and I'm afraid I have to leave."

Alec nods slowly in understanding.

"Oh," he says. Magnus is ninety percent sure he's imagining the disappointment in Alec's tone, but he half-hopes he isn't. "Okay. Um... You need a cab, or...?"

He lets the question trail off, and Magnus shakes his head.

"Oh no, I'm fine," he assures him. "I'll just walk. The weather's nice, and there's some street art along the way." He tries to stop talking, but somehow can't. He's not lying, but he also doesn't know why he's telling Alec any of this. "It's a more scenic route, I suppose. And I do have a weakness for beautiful things."

He adds it lightly, but Alec's expression is meaningful when he replies.

"Yeah," Alec says, nodding. His voice sounds almost soft, more gentle than usual. "Yeah, I know."

For a moment, Magnus wonders how Alec could possibly know that, before recalling that he _is_ a pastry chef and does tend to lean toward a rather aesthetically charged style, when it comes to his own appearance. It shouldn't be too surprising that Alec knows this about him.

But then he picks up on something else underneath the simple statement, as though Alec _knows_ more about Magnus than Magnus realizes, and that what he knows somehow fascinates him. It's a strange thought; it seems so conceited to assume something like that, especially from Alec. But Magnus can't help but shake the idea that that's what Alec means. It leaves him feeling exposed and protected, all at the same time.

"Anyway," Magnus says, glancing away from Alec's face. "I should go. It was, uh... It's good to see you."

His gaze locks with Alec's again, and it's strangely overwhelming. He doesn't want to leave. But he also really, really wants to.

Alec nods.

"You, too."

Only two words, but the sincerity in them takes Magnus by surprise. He swallows, manages a small smile.

"Goodbye then, Alexander," he says, and Alec's mouth tugs in a small smile of its own.

"Bye, Magnus."

Magnus holds his gaze for another three seconds, before he pulls himself together and leaves, doing his best to ignore the feeling of Alec's eyes on him as he goes.

 

* * *

 

While Magnus did somewhat storm out of the building, earlier today, he did have the decency to text Tessa and let her know that he'd left. She didn't seem thrilled about it, but didn't give him a hard time either, and he ended up back at Fairchild's to see if they needed a hand. After some eyerolling from Jocelyn, she let him man the register for while, allowing her to take a break.

When Jem and Tessa walk through the door a few hours later, Magnus tries to remain as unaffected as possible.

"There you are," Jem says in mock-innocence. "I can see why this was so pressing that you just _had_ to run out without a word."

Magnus gives him a glare, handing a customer their change.

"I had a thing," he says vaguely, giving the customer a smile as they go to sit down with their pastry and beverage.

"Sure, you did," Tessa says. "You missed out, though. Isabelle is really cool, _and_ we got to stay for the whole shoot."

"I'm glad you had a good time," Magnus says, somewhat dryly. It _does_ sound like they had a good time, and he really would have liked to meet Isabelle. Properly, and not from a distance while he creepily watched her hug her brother. _Great first impression, Bane._

"Hey, so guess what," Tessa says, oblivious to his inner turmoil―or at least graciously pretending that she is.

"What?" Magnus says.

"She's got a gig tomorrow night," Tessa says. "Small venue, intimate. And we're invited."

Magnus stops dead.

"Come again?"

"After you so rudely took off," Tessa reprimands softly, "Isabelle asked if we wanted to come."

"That doesn't mean _I'm_ invited," Magnus points out.

"Actually," Jem cuts in, "she specified that you were. Her brother agreed."

There's a sudden swooping feeling in Magnus's stomach, but he keeps a straight face.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"I don't remember him being this obtuse," Jem muses to his wife, and Tessa gives him a pointed, but fond look.

"Alec thought it was a good idea," she says, turning back to Magnus. "He asked us to let you know that you were also invited. He seemed particularly into the idea of you meeting his sister, actually."

The swooping feeling returns, but Magnus is more prepared, this time.

"Is that so," he says absently. Tessa nods.

"Yeah," she says. "He's actually really nice. Not at all like you made him out to be." Magnus doesn't reply to that, and Tessa lets it slide. "So tomorrow night, then?"

Magnus holds her gaze for a moment, Jem also watching him expectantly.

"Sure," Magnus says easily, and he feels like he just signed some binding, terrifying agreement. "Just say when and where."

 

* * *

 

It's a strange feeling, regretting something while also being glad you did it. That's kind of how Magnus feels when he, Jem, and Tessa arrive at the venue for Isabelle's gig, the following night. He feels nervous, somehow. Not to meet Isabelle―though he _is_ slightly embarrassed about how she most likely saw him, yesterday―but to meet Alec. To see him again.

He was invited here. Alec wanted him to be here. Even after Magnus rejected him and then acted weird, he wanted him to be here. This is fine.

It doesn't take more than a moment for them to find Isabelle inside. Lydia is with her, Magnus notices with some surprise, and so is Alec. Alec, who meets his eye and exhales like he's relieved. It makes Magnus's skin tingle.

Isabelle immediately recognizes Tessa and Jem from their time spent together the day before, and she gives them both a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she says, beaming. Then she turns to Magnus. "And this must be Magnus Bane," she says, eyeing him up and down with a smile. There's something intrigued, almost suggestive, about her tone. "I've heard so much about you. I feel like we're friends, already."

Magnus does his best to hide his pleased surprise at hearing that, can't help but wonder what Alec has told his sister about him and how much. And even aside from that, he finds himself deciding that he definitely likes her, after just a minute's interaction. He smiles.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he says. "And thank you for inviting us."

"No, of course," Isabelle says easily. "You should really thank my brother. He's the only reason I've been able to do any of this. Supported me through all the hard times." She adds it almost teasingly, as though bringing light to a softer side Alec doesn't like so show, and she smiles as she nudges him with her elbow. "He shouldn't have."

"Yes, I should have," Alec says simply, but it's not without warmth. Isabelle turns back to Magnus.

"So, you play the piano?" she says conversationally, and Magnus huffs a surprised laugh at her knowing that.

"Very little," he says, almost self-consciously. "And very poorly."

Isabelle's expression turns surprised.

"Alec said you're really good," she says, glancing at her brother, and Magnus turns to him.

"Slight exaggeration," Magnus says, unable to keep the amused warmth out of his voice―especially when he swears he sees Alec's cheeks darken just a little.

"No, I said _pretty_ good," Alec says, glancing at Isabelle, and then back to Magnus. "There's a difference."

"Oh, well in that case." There it is again, that warmth, shining through in Magnus's tone no matter how hard he tries to hold it back.

Alec's mouth shapes into a small smile, eyes soft as they stay locked on Magnus's. It's an expression Magnus hasn't seen there before, and he finds that he really doesn't mind it at all―the fact that it's directed at him is something he minds even less.

Magnus zones out for a little while. He's so preoccupied with this, in fact, that he doesn't realize how long he and Alec have just been silently staring until he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He glances at Isabelle, who's watching her brother with a devious smile, prompting him with a knowing look. It's enough to make Alec straighten a little where he stands, clearing his throat as he deliberately looks away from Magnus. It can't have been more than a few seconds, but it feels like they just stood there for much longer, which makes Magnus's chest flutter with both embarrassment and something like joy.

"Shall we?" Alec says, gesturing vaguely.

"We shall," Isabelle says. "I don't go on for another twenty minutes, but―" She turns to Magnus― "until then, you have to tell me what bronzer you're using, because it is amazing."

Magnus raises his eyebrows, mouth curving into a smile. He turns to the others.

"I like this one," he says, and both Lydia and Alec look absolutely thrilled about it, albeit for entirely different reasons. Magnus tries not to think too much about how glad he is that he's hitting it off so well with Alec's sister. It shouldn't matter, but somehow it does.

 

As the night goes on, Magnus finds that he is having a good time. He hates to admit it, somehow, but he is. Not only are Lydia and Isabelle both excellent company―and frankly adorable together―but Jem and Tessa fit right in with the small group. And most of all, Alec's company is just as excellent. He's smiling more than Magnus has ever seen before, and he's not sure if it's because of Isabelle's presence, the fact that Alec knows half the group, or the influence of alcohol. Regardless, it's a lovely sight to behold.

Magnus gently broaches the subject of Jace's departure for Chicago, which Lydia was apparently involved in, but Lydia doesn't have much news.

"I don't know what to tell you," she says with a shrug, and a glance at Alec, who doesn't seem to be listening. "I had a thing, and he begged to come along. I thought he was trying to get away from something, but I didn't ask. Then I heard about Clary, and..." She shakes her head. "I just came back because Izzy was back. Jace stayed behind, but I don't know for how long."

Magnus can't blame her. From what he can tell, Lydia had nothing to do with Jace's awful behavior, and even though he knows the breakup was largely Alec's doing, he was still hoping there was some other explanation. Although, letting himself get talked into dumping his girlfriend and then running away, is something that Magnus figures he can actually hold against Jace, on its own.

Isabelle is very talented, that much is obvious during her performance. It's acoustic and mellow, and Magnus once again makes a mental note of checking out some more of her music. Once her set is over, Magnus observes how everyone listens, enraptured, while Isabelle tells some story from her recent tour―her social nature has even attracted some strangers to their table. Magnus then turns his attention to Alec, for what must be the millionth time tonight, and sees how he just sits there silently, smiling while the others keep their attention on his sister. It's such a lovely smile. Almost careful, but full of so much feeling, and Magnus can't stop looking at it.

He has gotten the impression, since they first met, that Alec's smile is a rare thing―and that when you get to see it, it's a privilege. Even more so when you're the cause of it. Which is why Magnus feels a particularly strong swell of heat rise in his chest when Alec turns to him, and his smile widens slightly. It's oddly overwhelming, and while Magnus smiles back, he can't help but look away a moment later.

Further on in the night, the atmosphere is definitely relaxed and easy, and Magnus enjoys spending time with Alec―even though they don't actually talk much, their conversations instead going through other people. Magnus should have assumed as much, of course; this is more of a group hang situation. But still, the way Alec tenses up whenever Magnus directly addresses him is endearing, albeit confusing.

"Anyone want another drink?" Alec asks, addressing only his own party, and they all accept.

"Need any help?" Magnus asks, figuring it's only polite to offer a hand, but Alec's reaction is startling.

"No," he says, and Magnus freezes, surprised by the hard tone. Alec hesitates. "No, uh... I'm good. Thanks."

Magnus frowns, relaxes back in his chair, while Alec averts his eyes and heads to the bar. Jem gives his companions a sympathetic look.

"I'll help," he says, and follows Alec in Magnus's stead. Meanwhile, Magnus is left confused and, honestly, a little hurt.

"Don't take it personally," Izzy says. "He always gets a bit flustered around cute guys."

Magnus valiantly tries to ignore the insinuation that Alec thinks he's cute, but it's not much use. It shouldn't affect him so much, either; the guy _did_ ask him out, after all, despite Magnus's rejection that followed. Attraction is implied. Still, Magnus chooses to focus on a different detail of Izzy's statement.

"About that," he says, leaning forward a little to keep the conversation private. "Why isn't he...?"

"Out?" Izzy suggests, and Magnus nods. He feels like it might be a stupid question, but he still wants to know. Izzy tilts her head. "You've met our mom, right?" she says, as if that explains everything. "Not exactly a family full of warm, fuzzy feelings and support. It's hard to stand out, as it is. Liking the wrong gender isn't ideal."

Magnus glances at Lydia, who gets a sympathetic look.

"I guess I just don't―" Magnus starts, unsure of how to put it. "I don't mean to be indelicate. I just don't see why it would be so bad. I mean, you have a girlfriend."

He gestures redundantly at Lydia, and Izzy inclines her head.

"True," she says. "But I'm also the wayward musician of the family. Our parents gave up on me a long time ago, in terms of the company's public image. Alec, not so much. He's got a lot to live up to, including settling down with an appropriate wife, someday."

"Their parents even tried to set _us_ up for a while," Lydia cuts in, with some distaste. "I mean, Alec is great and I care about him a lot. But that just... wasn't happening." She shakes her head. "Mostly because I ended up smitten with his sister, but also 'cause he's just as gay as they come."

Izzy lets out a laugh, and Lydia's face lights up at the sound of it. Magnus can't help but smile, the vague jealousy at what these two have immediately overpowered by the joy it makes him feel.

"Fair point," he says, and Izzy sighs.

"My brother can be... guarded," she says. _Understatement,_ Magnus thinks. "But he's not a bad guy. He's one of the best, warmest people I know. He just has trouble expressing that, sometimes."

Magnus just cocks his eyebrows at that, sipping his drink. He can't help but think of the complete one-eighty Alec did at the resort; being unbelievably cold for weeks, and then blatantly telling Magnus he was into him, in the middle of a downpour.

Magnus looks down at the table, averting his gaze as he remembers. It sounds a little ridiculous, in hindsight. But in the dumbest way, it also makes him want to smile. Magnus vaguely wonders if Alec has any middle-setting between all and nothing, or if it's always a matter of either-or. Somehow, he finds the latter option charming.

Before coming here, Magnus insisted to himself that he would leave early. If nothing else, for the sake of his early shift tomorrow―he can't exactly be sleep-deprived or hungover, then. But as it is, he ends up staying a little longer than intended, and it's only when it starts getting properly late―by his standards―that he excuses himself to go home. Isabelle and Lydia are both disappointed and insist on getting together again sometime, while Jem and Tessa say goodbye as well, but decide to stay behind.

"I'll walk you out," Alec surprises Magnus by saying, but Magnus doesn't object. Instead, he feels almost giddy as the two of them make their way through the bar and outside; he swears he feels Alec's hand gently rest against the small of his back for a moment, and it shouldn't make him shiver the way it does.

Once out on the sidewalk, Magnus puts on his jacket, and does his very best to silence the voice that's telling him to just stay for another five minutes. Or another fifteen, or thirty, or forty-five. Maybe another hour, or two.

"You sure you have to go?" Alec asks conversationally, once they're alone. Well, alone aside from the people walking back and forth around them.

Magnus nods, cursing Alec for testing his self-discipline like that.

"I'm afraid so," he says. "Early morning, tomorrow. Like every morning," he adds dryly, and Alec breathes a small laugh. It's such a lovely sound.

"Got it," Alec says, and Magnus nods, suddenly finding himself just staring at the guy.

He can't help but be reminded of the rain. Alec standing just like this, barely an arm's length away, expression open and vulnerable, albeit full of angry and scared determination. Although, there's no anger this time. There's only softness, some trepidation coloring his features, otherwise just kind and attentive and warm.

The setting is a bit different, too. Instead of green everywhere in sight, there is concrete and lights, and the empty spaces have been traded in for a populated street and city air. Instead of falling water, thundering against a wooden roof and smattering against a pond, there are voices, cars, laughter and music.

But somehow, it's the same. It's still just the two of them, still just them, in a bubble shielded from the noise, and Magnus is almost overwhelmed by the feeling of it.

Alec is just as close as he was then. Except this time, there's no sharp smell of rain and earth, but instead just that warm scent Magnus recognizes from the first night at the resort, mingled together with whatever cologne Alec is wearing. It's a nice one.

Magnus can't stop staring. Mostly because he's hit by just how easy this man's face is to stare at, but also because Alec almost looks like he's about to do something. The way his eyes go from Magnus's, to his lips, and back up again, is nothing if not inviting. It's _titillating,_ for lack of a better word, and Magnus makes sure to keep his breathing even as he holds himself in place.

He wants nothing more than to kiss Alec, he realizes. To grab the front of his jacket and slowly, determinedly pull him closer, to watch his expression shift just as Magnus brings their mouths together, here in front of everyone. Magnus wants it so much he can barely think. He's not sure what's stopping him, aside from maybe pride, maybe confusion, maybe the fact that Alec himself has said he isn't out. No matter what has happened between them―or _hasn't_ happened―Magnus would never dream of outing someone against their will, and so he will hold firm and do nothing. _Nothing_ seems to be the most rational move, right now.

But he wants to kiss him. _God,_ he wants to. He wants to, and he's somehow almost entirely sure that Alec wants it, too.

"I'm glad you came," Alec says, his voice low, but still enough to snap Magnus out of his trance.

"Me, too," Magnus admits. He keeps his eyes on Alec's hazel ones. "Thanks for the invite."

Alec nods, smiling ever so slightly.

"You're welcome."

Like before, Magnus isn't sure how long they keep staring at each other―it must look ridiculous―but he practically jumps when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He considers ignoring it, but when it vibrates again, and again, he decides that that might not be the best course of action. As such, he sighs with an apologetic look at Alec, and gets his phone out to check.

There's a text from Clary, but before Magnus has a chance to be annoyed by the interruption, he reads it, and feels himself go pale. He has to read it twice before its message sinks in, and he takes a deep breath.

"What is it?" Alec asks, clearly noticing Magnus's reaction. He sounds genuinely concerned, but with his current focus, Magnus is only distantly aware of the way it makes his heart clench. "What's wrong?"

Magnus swallows.

"It's from Clary," he says. "Apparently, Simon got himself into a mess."

"What kind of mess?"

"He signed a deal," Magnus says after some hesitation. "With Circle Records."

He looks up at Alec, whose expression immediately hardens.

"What happened?" he asks. He sounds oddly businesslike, all of a sudden, and Magnus shakes his head.

"I don't know," he says, looking back down at his phone. "I don't know, just― Clary says Morgenstern talked him into it, and apparently Simon is just now realizing all the fine print. He's kind of freaking out."

Magnus doesn't convey exactly how panicked Clary's text feels, how she conveys that Simon is both ashamed and angry at having been tricked into signing what appears to be a very one-sided deal. And not just him, but his whole band.

"Shit," Magnus says under his breath, pressing his hand to his forehead. " _Shit._ "

"I should have said something," Alec says, mostly to himself. "If Simon had known―"

"No." Magnus looks up at him, shakes his head. "No, this is on me. I should've―" He sighs. "I should have told him, right away. If I had, he wouldn't be in this situation."

Alec presses his lips together, his brow furrowing in a concerned frown. It's an interesting look on him, something quite unlike any expression Magnus has seen there, so far. Not that he's really prioritizing that thought, at the moment. Instead, he grits his teeth, looks down at his phone.

"If I'd just talked to them at all," he says in a low voice, referring to his entire family, "this wouldn't have happened."

The silence that follows is tense, and Magnus sees out of the corner of his eye how Alec raises his hand hesitantly, before dropping it.

"I, uh―" Alec says, voice heavy with said hesitation, before it takes on the same, even tone Magnus is more used to. "I need to go. I'm sorry, I just― I have something to take care of. I'm sorry―"

"No, it's okay," Magnus says, looking up. He's a little surprised, but he means it. "You're a busy man." He adds a small smile, and he sees the sincerity in Alec's eyes, telling him that he doesn't really want to go. "I should get back, anyway."

Alec nods.

"Yeah," he says. He licks his lips, pauses. "You gonna be okay?"

Somehow, the question hits Magnus hard, but he doesn't show it. Instead, he puts on a bigger smile.

"Always," he says, adding a confident frown, and the half-smile Alec rewards him with is stunning. Alec sighs softly.

"It'll work out," he says. He sounds so certain that Magnus almost believes him.

"Yeah," Magnus says, nodding. "Sure."

A few more seconds of silence stretches on between them, Alec's expression conflicted, but hard. His gaze darts to Magnus's mouth, then back up to his eyes, and the urge to kiss him rushes back with full force.

"Goodnight, Magnus," Alec says, and Magnus feels relieved and disappointed, all at once.

"Goodnight," he says.

Alec gives him one last, small smile, before they both turn and leave in opposite directions, off into the night.

 

* * *

 

Magnus can't find it in him to go back inside the bar and track down Jem and Tessa, instead texts them to let them know what happened. Within the hour, they've arrived at Fairchild's, which is closed for the night but is still the default meeting spot in times of crisis like this. Especially with Luke, Jocelyn, and Clary living in the apartment upstairs, it seems to be the easiest option.

"So, what does this mean, exactly?" Tessa asks, nursing a cup of tea where she sits at one of the café's round tables. Meanwhile, Jem is pacing slowly, ignoring his own cup of Earl Grey―which in itself tells Magnus that he must be terribly preoccupied and concerned.

"I'm not sure," Clary says, sitting across from Tessa. "He just called me, frantic. Apparently, Morgenstern came to one of their gigs the other night, and they had a few drinks, and..." She shrugs. "The whole band ended up signed to his label. Which would be great, at least Simon thought so. But then the details of it all came up. I don't get most of it, but basically Rock Solid Panda is now owned by Valentine Morgenstern. As in, they can't make music without him, can't release anything new, even through other bands, or solo. For at least the next few years, they're stuck." Clary shakes her head, sighs as she looks down at her teacup. "And the worst part is that the label itself apparently isn't that legit. It looked like it was, but it's basically just a front. So, they're screwed for the foreseeable future."

Her tone grows bitter at the end, and Magnus feels a tight knot of guilt in his stomach, as he listens from his own seat at the small table. He knows this isn't his fault. Intellectually, he knows. But it doesn't matter. He knew Morgenstern was rotten, and he said nothing, and now Simon and his band are paying the price.

Luke sighs heavily. He and Jocelyn are both standing behind the counter, leaning tiredly against its surface.

"You guys should go to bed," Magnus says kindly. "You need to sleep."

"So do you," Jocelyn points out.

"No, I'm immortal," Magnus says confidently. "I'll be fine. You, go."

"But―"

"Jocelyn," Magnus says. "Go to bed.  We've got this."

Jocelyn looks at him in a way that's both frustrated, fond, and grateful, and she eventually sighs.

"Alright," she says, straightening. She's not even properly dressed, just wearing a robe over sweatpants and a t-shirt. "Just keep me posted, okay?"

Magnus nods reassuringly, as do the others. With that, Jocelyn heads back upstairs, and Luke lingers, frowning.

"I could talk to Alaric," he says, referring to his friend on the force. "See if they've got any dirt on that Morgenstern guy we could use. There must be a way to get those kids off the hook."

"Agreed," Jem says. "I'll talk to Will, see if he has any ideas."

It's a solid approach; despite his more carefree disposition, Will Herondale takes his job as a lawyer very seriously. It's the only reason he works for a small firm with difficult cases, despite being so good at what he does. He wants to help the little guy, he says, and even does pro-bono work, on occasion.

"Sounds good," Luke says, with a nod.

With that, the meeting is ended, and the group dispersed.  Simon is still on the other side of town, crashing at some friend's place, but says he'll be back tomorrow, when he can. Jem and Tessa are staying with Will, and as Magnus heads home to his own apartment, his chest feels heavy.

 _It'll work out._ Alec sounded so confident, so softly certain that things will, in fact, work out. And somehow, even though his common sense tells him otherwise, Magnus does believe him.

 

* * *

 

The next couple of days blur together in a strange haze of worry and distraction. Magnus makes sure to keep the bakery afloat, what with both Jocelyn and Luke concerned for their surrogate son, Raphael worried about his boyfriend, and Clary worried about her best friend. Simon himself is a nervous wreck when he returns from the band's interrupted not-really-tour, and can't even bring himself to tell his mother what happened, just yet. Magnus can't blame him. Aside from being embarrassed and angry, Simon feels used, and Magnus can't help but be reminded of Alec describing how the same situation affected Isabelle, years ago.

It's odd how you can hate someone you've only ever met once, but Magnus _hates_ Valentine Morgenstern for this. The fact that he also hurt Isabelle, and the fact that Magnus found him so damn charming the one time they met, only makes it so much worse.

Jem and Tessa have returned to Williamsburg, and Jem has indeed talked to Will―who just confirmed what a shitty situation Simon and his band mates are now in. It's not impossible to solve, he says, but doing it would be nearly impossible with the resources they have. And according to Alaric, there is indeed some dirt on Morgenstern, but most of it is far too unsubstantiated to press any charges, at this stage. With all this in mind, things look rather bleak.

Which is why it's all the more shocking when Simon shows up one day with desperate relief written all over his face, and bearing good news.

"What do you mean, it's been fixed?" Jocelyn exclaims.

"I mean, it's been fixed," Simon repeats. "We got out of the deal, we're in the clear."

"Wait, Will figured it out?" Clary asks, and Simon hesitates for such a short moment that no one seems to notice.

"Yeah," he says, nodding. "I can't believe it, but― We're free." He lets out a breathless laugh. "Rock Solid Panda rides again."

Raphael groans.

"You ruined it," he says, but it's uncharacteristically obvious that he's just covering up his own immense relief. Simon grins, pulls him in for a kiss, and not even Raphael's grumpy self has the heart to object.

The bleak atmosphere that has dominated Fairchild's since Clary first heard of Simon's conundrum lifts rather quickly with this amazing news, and Magnus is more relieved than he'll admit. He has always been a little teasing with Simon, but he does care about him, and it would have killed him to see the guy wrapped up this mess any longer.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Sherman," Magnus says, while the others are busy working and talking amongst themselves. Simon gives him a tired look.

"Dude," he says. "It's been so many years. Like, so many. That name-thing is getting old."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Magnus says innocently, and Simon shakes his head, smiling. Magnus nudges him. "Seriously, though. I'm happy for you. I'm glad it worked out."

"Thanks, me too," Simon says with a heavy sigh that's full of relief. "I can't believe we were bamboozled, like that. I mean, we would have been so screwed if Alec's lawyer army hadn't shown up."

Magnus freezes at the sound of Alec's name, and turns to Simon.

"Wait, what?" he says, frowning, and Simon's expression turns slightly frantic.

"Shit," he says. "I wasn't supposed to tell. Uh, forget it, okay? I didn't say anything. You heard nothing."

He adds some wiggly mind-control gestures for good measure, but Magnus has no patience for it.

"Simon, what are you talking about?" he asks firmly, and Simon sighs in defeat. He looks around, as though not to be overheard, before he looks back at Magnus.

"The deal Morgenstern made us sign was pretty airtight," he says, a little sheepishly. "But somehow, Alec got wind of it, and just... swooped in and saved the day. Well, his lawyers did. They managed to get me out of the deal, and enough history was pulled together on Morgenstern to even arrest him for several accounts of fraud and embezzlement." Simon shrugs. "Alec saved me. Me, and the band. He told me not to tell, though. Which I wasn't gonna, because he can actually be kind of scary, when he wants to be. But yeah, it was all him."

Magnus's frown deepens, lips parting in confusion.

"Alec?" he clarifies, unable to keep the doubt out of his voice. "Alec Lightwood?"

"Magnus, come on," Simon says, shaking his head. "Give the guy a break. He's not half as high and mighty as you, sometimes."

He gives Magnus a pointed look, then turns back to the others to once again jump into the conversation. Meanwhile, Magnus just stares into space for a few moments.

Simon's words are truer than he himself probably realizes.

 

* * *

 

Simon undoubtedly seems to have a new appreciation for life in general after his close call with a con man, even though he may be a little dramatic about it. Over the next few days, he takes every opportunity to mention how he's got a new song happening and how terrible it would have been to be forced to use it for Morgenstern's gain. Before long, his family is sick of hearing it, and selfishly send him into the kitchen for a very patient Raphael to deal with.

Magnus hasn't spoken to Alec since Izzy's gig. It's surprising, somehow. He was half-expecting to hear from him, especially after what he did to help Simon out of his mess. But Simon did say Alec told him not to tell, and it seems that Alec meant it. Magnus can't imagine why.

Clary seems to have finally gotten past Jace. At least, that's what she keeps saying whenever he's even vaguely brought up, most often by a relatively out-of-the-loop Jocelyn. She means well, Magnus knows, but he really wishes she'd take a hint and realize that her daughter was much more invested in her budding romance than she let on, and that she's still hurting over its end.

Magnus, in turn, does his best to keep any mention of Jace to a minimum―which is why he feels both annoyed and stunned when the guy shows up at Fairchild's, one early afternoon.

Well, not just him. That's the part that makes Magnus go from slightly miffed to full-blown flustered. Because as though suddenly stopping dead in the middle of a determined trajectory, Alec and Jace end up standing right outside the bakery, in plain sight through the giant windows that face the street. There's a slight drop in customer activity at the moment, allowing Magnus, Simon, and Clary to all just stand by the counter for a moment and watch.

"What are they doing?" Simon asks, pausing in his casual sweeping of the floor and leaning against the broom, instead. There's a frown on his face, while Magnus sips his coffee, and Clary shakes her head.

"I don't know," Clary says. There's obvious confusion in her tone, but she's just as obviously trying to sound nonchalant about the sudden appearance of her ex. It's not going very well.

Meanwhile, Magnus feels a strange buzzing growing in his chest, as he watches the Lightwoods through the window. None of the patrons seated at the tables, or outside, seem to notice the oddness of it, but why would they? None of them could possibly be aware of just how much drama has transpired between the people working here and the wealthy family who owns the building down the street.

Magnus does his best to look uninterested when Jace glances inside, Alec talking to him with a firm, but calm expression. Whatever he's saying must resonate with his brother, because Jace sighs then, and gives him a nod. And suddenly, the two of them are heading inside. They enter through the front door of the café, and Magnus barely has time to decide between staying put and hiding in the kitchen, before Alec and Jace spot him and the choice is taken away from him. So he opts to remain leaning against the doorway, coffee cup in hand.

"Hey," Jace says a little awkwardly as he approaches the counter. Clary juts out her chin slightly in that way she does when she's feeling defiant, and Magnus watches with both amusement and concern as she holds Jace's gaze. Simon, in the meantime, narrows his eyes at Jace, who tries to ignore him for a second, before he turns to him with slight annoyance. Simon doesn't budge, not until Clary sighs.

"It's okay, Simon," she says, and Simon throws her a glance, looks back at Jace, and leaves. He heads into the kitchen, no doubt to eavesdrop and annoy Raphael to death. Magnus is surprised he doesn't do that I'm-watching-you gesture with two fingers, as he goes.

Magnus tries really hard to keep his attention on Jace and Clary, he really does. But the presence of Alec in the room is palpable, and he can't help that his gaze is drawn to him. As he looks over, he sees that Alec's eyes are already on him, although in a way that's clearly trying not to be too obvious. He's wearing a suit, which looks annoyingly good on him. _God,_ he's attractive. Meanwhile, Magnus realizes that this is the first time Alec has seen him in his own workplace―and in this pale-green apron he's not a huge fan of. Fantastic.

"Jace," Jocelyn says, unknowingly interrupting the silent standoff as she enters the café and heads behind the counter. "Nice to see you again."

Jace looks startled by the sudden appearance of the mother of his ex, and he gives her a friendly, albeit uncomfortable smile.

"Hi," he says.

"Can we get you anything?" Jocelyn asks kindly. "Coffee? Tea? The chocolate éclairs are delicious."

Magnus preens a little, but thankfully, Jace keeps his focus anywhere but on him.

"No, thanks," Jace says, trying to stay polite, even though it's obvious he came here to talk to Clary. "I'm good."

Magnus turns back to Alec while Jace scrambles. He's not even subtle about his attention being on Magnus this time, and it somehow makes Magnus feel brave.

"Hello, Alexander," he says, his tone neutral, but kind. He's sure he's imagining the way Alec's expression shifts slightly at the greeting. "How have you been?"

"Good," Alec says. "Thanks."

Their communication goes mostly unnoticed, or at least no one seems to find it odd. Instead, the attention is―understandably―on the awkward tension between Jace and Clary. Magnus holds Alec's gaze for a little while longer, before he turns back to the silent confrontation at hand.

"You sure?" Jocelyn asks, and that seems to be Jace's breaking point.

"Yeah, I actually have to go," he blurts, and the hurt surprise on Clary's face is obvious to anyone who knows her. Magnus frowns at the sudden shift, and so does Alec, but Jace doesn't seem to care. Instead, he―with uncharacteristic awkwardness―turns around and heads for the door, Alec giving Magnus and the others a short nod, before he follows.

The tension left in their wake is odd and confused, and Magnus just gapes as the Lightwoods unceremoniously leave the premises. He turns to Clary, who's pressing her lips together, as though forcing herself to keep steady.

"Biscuit―" Magnus says gently, but Clary cuts him off.

"No, you know what," she says, her tone forcibly light and tinged with bitterness. "It's good. It's fine. At least now we don't have to awkwardly make conversation when we bump into each other in the street. I'm just glad it's over with."

Magnus doesn't believe her, but Clary doesn't seem to expect him to. He still lets her have the pretense, however, and he nods. Meanwhile, Jocelyn seems a little taken aback, though she quickly pulls herself together. She sighs, and makes her way to her daughter, pulling her into a one-armed hug and planting a kiss against her hair. She doesn't say anything, but there's something so motherly about it that it makes Magnus's heart ache, and Jocelyn heads upstairs to the apartment.

The air is a little heavier, after that. Simon spends the next half hour helpfully ranting about how horrible Jace is, foregoing his duties just to make Clary feel better. It seems to be working, thankfully.

"I just―" he says. "I mean, can you believe that guy? Who does that? Treating you like that and then just showing up here, like he's hot shit?" Magnus listens from the kitchen and laughs under his breath at Simon's passionate support for his best friend. "You deserve better, you know. Way better."

"Thanks, Simon," Clary says. She sounds tired, but amused.

"You do, though," Simon insists. "You know what, I hope he never comes back. He better not show his face here ever again, or I'll― Oh wait, no, he's back."

Magnus looks up at Simon's tone.

"What?" Clary blurts.

"Yeah, he's back," Simon says quickly. "Yep. Coming in right now―"

Just as he says it, the sound of the bakery's front door is heard, and Magnus peeks out into the café area. Sure enough, it's Jace, but this time he's alone. Magnus decides that this is not disappointing at all.

"Hi," Jace says. His voice is only slightly more sure than it was last time, and while Clary doesn't reply, Simon's downright offended expression speaks volumes on her behalf. Jace catches it, and he sighs, with some impatience. "Look, I know I've been an ass, okay?" He glances away as he says it, and Magnus is pettily satisfied to see that he's actually ashamed. Contrastingly, the guy's expression is painfully sincere when he looks back at Clary. "I'm sorry. I really am. I just need to talk to you. Please."

Magnus watches him, then turns to Clary. She's obviously conflicted, and she tightens her jaw, thinking. Magnus is pretty sure some of the café's patrons have noticed that something is going on, at this point, seeing as how this is the second awkward interaction they've seen today between Jace and the girl at the counter. Clary, however, seems mostly unbothered by it. Her attention is on Jace, and his is on her.

Eventually, Clary sighs. She turns to Magnus, a question in her eyes.

"Go on," he says softly, nodding at the front entrance. "We got this."

Clary gives him a relieved look, and takes off her apron. She hands it to Magnus as she makes her way around the counter, and Jace practically sags in relief as he follows her to the door. Magnus notices the watchful way Simon gazes after them, but no one stops the two from leaving.

 

* * *

 

It seems that Magnus was wrong about Jace. At least, judging by the text he gets from Clary later that night, briefly saying that everything's been worked out and that they'll talk more about it in the morning.

She's more than a little excited when they actually do get around to talking about it the next day, although she's clearly trying to downplay it. Even by the end of the day, when Fairchild's is closing up for the night, she's still high on her recent romantic development.

"He thought I didn't care," Clary says, happy disbelief in her tone. "I mean, he thought I wasn't as into him as he was into me, which is just... insane."

Magnus can't help but agree, and he just smiles, decides not to mention Alec's involvement. It wouldn't help anything, and although Alec did give Jace a push in that direction, Jace is a grown man who wasn't forced to do anything of what he did.

"Unfathomable," Magnus says, and Clary giggles, shaking her head.

"Oh, god," she says pulling her hair back into a ponytail and then letting it fall free. "I just― I'm stupidly happy, all of a sudden. I can't believe it."

Magnus's smile widens.

"Well, enjoy it, youngling," he says. "It's a beautiful thing."

Clary tilts her head.

"I'd love to see you so happy," she says. "If only there were such a person for you."

She says it dramatically, but Magnus can tell that she's sincere. For a moment, he considers telling her about Alec, about how he can't seem to stop thinking about the guy for more than a second at a time. About how seeing him for just half a minute yesterday was the height of his week.

Instead, he cocks his eyebrows.

"Maybe Camille has a friend," he says, and Clary shoves his arm, grinning.

"Don't go getting all desperate," she says. "It doesn't suit you."

"You're the one who called me old," Magnus reminds her. "This is on you."

Clary scoffs in offense, but before she has a chance to reply, the sound of the front door makes them both react. Simon is with them in the café area of the bakery, doing some last-minute cleaning, and all three of them turn to the source of the sound, confused.

The entrance is locked, but the glass in the door makes it easy to see who's standing outside, and Magnus does a double take. It's Maryse Lightwood.

"Another one?" Simon says, apparently recognizing her. "Didn't we have enough Lightwood drama, yesterday?"

He turns to Clary, who just shrugs, and Simon heads over to the door. Maryse looks annoyed just being there, but stays put even as Simon approaches the glass that's keeping her out.

"We're closed," Simon says loudly, gesturing at the sign hanging inside the door. Maryse doesn't seem surprised, and she replies something that Magnus can't hear, since her words are muffled by the glass. He does, however, see the way she nods in his direction, and Simon pulls back a little. He looks over his shoulder at Magnus. "She says she needs to talk to you."

He sounds confused, and a cold pit settles in Magnus's stomach. He doesn't know what it could be about, but Maryse Lightwood coming here so late can't possibly be a good thing.

Magnus hesitates, but Maryse looks like she's not about to go anywhere, so he gives Simon a nod. Simon, equally confused, unlocks the door and opens it, letting Maryse inside.

"Thank you," she says stiffly, as though the pleasantry is enough to make her uncomfortable. She glances around the small café with obvious judgment in her expression, and Simon closes the door once more. Then Maryse spots Magnus, and she slowly makes her way into the room, stopping some distance from the counter, as though to make sure some kind of barrier between them is maintained. "Good evening."

"Hello," Magnus says, the slightest frown on his face. He makes a point of always being civil when he can, but his confusion is getting the best of him, at the moment. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Maryse's expression tightens, as though she can't make out if he's being genuine or not. She exhales.

"I need to talk to you," she says. "Privately."

Magnus glances around the space. Raphael is still in the kitchen, and aside from Simon and Clary, the café area is completely empty. Still, both his friends take the hint, and Clary gestures for Simon to join her in the kitchen, where they'll all hopefully be out of earshot for whatever is about to be discussed. Magnus half-wishes they'd stay, but decides this is probably best.

Once they're alone, the atmosphere between Magnus and the Lightwood matriarch shifts. He has only met her once, and it didn't exactly leave a good impression. She isn't here to change said impression, that much is obvious.

"So," Maryse starts, after a few seconds of tense silence. "I suppose you know why I'm here."

Magnus frowns, taken aback.

"No," he says, shaking his head. The word sounds halfway between a question and a statement. "I can't say I do."

Now it's Maryse's turn to look confused, but hers is obviously laced with annoyance and suspicion.

"Fine," she says tightly. "If that's how you want to play it." Magnus's frown deepens, but Maryse doesn't pause for long. "I have a suspicion that needs to be sorted out. It concerns my son, Alec."

Magnus feels an odd pang in his chest, but he keeps his expression neutral.

"Okay?" he says, confused. Maryse takes a deep breath, as though bracing herself.

"Are you seeing him?" she asks, and Magnus can't hide his surprise.

"What?" he says, eyebrows raised.

"It's a simple question," Maryse says. "Are you seeing my son? Romantically."

She seems to have trouble even suggesting it, but Magnus still takes a moment to process.

"I don't understand," he says, shaking his head. "What are you―?"

"I always knew he had... particular tastes," Maryse cuts in, forcing out the words as though they burn her throat. Her face is twisted in controlled irritation. "I just thought he'd gotten over it. Or at the very least, that he had the decency to keep it to himself."

It takes Magnus a moment to understand what she means, and when he does, he feels his face go slack with stunned realization.

 _He came out._ After everything Alec has said, after all his efforts to keep it hidden, it seems he finally stopped trying. The realization affects Magnus more than it should, like a rippling warmth in his chest.

Still, he pulls himself together, folding his arms.

"What does this have to do with me?" he asks, as steadily as he can. He can hear a certain waver in his voice, but he hopes Maryse can't.

"Everything, from what I can tell," she says, taking a step forward. "I know it's not possible that he would be involved with you, but I'd rather not tarnish his public image by suggesting it is. Which is why I'm here."

"For someone who's so convinced it's impossible," Magnus says, "you sure went through a lot of trouble just to tell me that."

"To have it contradicted," Maryse says.

"I don't know," Magnus says easily. "Seems more like you're confirming it, just by coming here."

Maryse processes that for a moment. Then she scoffs, frowning.

"You really expect him to give up his career for you?" she says, her voice full of disdain and disbelief. "His future?"

"I've never expected that," Magnus says evenly. "And I can't see why you'd think I have."

"Don't play dumb." Maryse shakes her head. "He's had his path planned for him since he was born, and I'm not about to let someone like you ruin that."

Magnus almost staggers at the sheer venom in the words _like you_ , but he straightens where he stands, instead.

"I'm sorry?" he says, but Maryse doesn't falter.

"You're telling me this isn't your doing?" she asks, the words dripping with doubt. "That you're not the one who put these ridiculous ideas in his head?"

"No," Magnus says firmly. "You can't have a very high opinion of your son, if that's what you really think."

"So you're not seeing him?"

"You said yourself it's impossible," Magnus says.

"Answer the question, Bane."

Magnus hesitates.

"No," he says, and somehow, the one word fills him with a hollow sadness. "I'm not."

Maryse seems to relax then, if only just a little. She straightens, pulls her shoulders back.

"And do I have your word that it will stay that way?"

"No, you don't." The sharpness in Magnus's tone clearly catches Maryse by surprise.

"Excuse me―?" she says, voice full of offended authority, but Magnus cuts her off.

"I don't excuse you," Magnus says, dropping his arms to his sides. He takes a step closer, voice low with controlled anger, and Maryse snaps her mouth shut. "You come into my workplace, my home, throw ridiculous accusations at me, and then proceed to insult me in so many ways. I'm not exactly in the mood for being polite, right now. I've answered your questions, I've humored you, and we're done. So if you please, kindly fuck off."

He gestures at the front door for emphasis, and Maryse glances behind her, before turning back to Magnus with a profoundly offended, shocked expression.

"How dare you―" she starts in a dangerous voice, but Magnus interrupts.

"This conversation is over," he says sharply, leaving no room for compromise. "Now, leave."

For a second or so, Maryse looks like she might not comply with the forcible request. Then her expression changes from shock to disdain.

"Unbelievable," she says, before turning on her heel and walking out the door, not even closing it but rather just leaving it to fall shut behind her.

Magnus feels himself practically deflate as she goes, his shoulders slumping in some kind of exhaustion. He can't explain why, but he suddenly feels sad. And frustrated. And profoundly confused.

He slowly makes his way over to the front door and locks it, making sure the _closed_ -sign is still in place. There's a strange, hollow pit in his stomach that wasn't there before.

The sound of someone exiting the kitchen tells him that his friends overheard every word of that conversation, and he takes a deep breath, before turning around. Sure enough, Clary and Simon both look concerned, as well as confused, Raphael peeking out from behind them.

"Magnus," Clary says, with some apprehension. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Magnus almost snaps, and he regrets it instantly, closing his eyes with a sharp exhale. "I just― Just need to go."

He grabs his jacket from its hook by the kitchen and starts making his way toward the back door―for some reason, he doesn't want to even remotely risk Maryse Lightwood or anyone else seeing him, right now.

Thankfully, no one stops him from leaving.

 

* * *

 

For once, Magnus really wishes he didn't have such a firmly established sleep schedule. He's used to waking up at the crack of dawn, even on days off, and he normally doesn't mind. But today, he just really wants to sleep in. He wants to burrow into his bed and keep sleeping soundly, just hide away from the world and its problems for another few hours. But the sun is just about to rise, and he can't go back to sleep.

He realizes that his problems are rather small, insignificant in the scheme of things. There are so much worse things than being emotionally torn about a gorgeous man who has somehow gone from arrogant asshole to knight in shining armor in just a matter of weeks. Much worse things than hiding in bed like a coward, reeling from an argument with said man's mother. Magnus still can't quite understand how that happened. If Maryse came to him, specifically, just to discuss Alec and whatever impression she seems to think Magnus has made on him, something big must have happened. Though if Alec did come out, that would probably be big enough.

Magnus sighs tiredly, heavily, pulling his covers up over his face. Alec came out. He must have. After what Isabelle said about it, Magnus fully realizes how big of a deal that would be.

 _I'm not out, or anything, for starters. And_ being _out would be a terrible idea._ Alec's words echo in his mind. The way his voice faltered slightly as he said them, in the middle of his confession in that gazebo, what feels like forever ago. _But I am into you._ He seemed so sure, so certain. Certain, but afraid.

And Magnus shot him right down, without a second thought. He let his own proud anger get the best of him, and reacted in a way Alec probably didn't deserve, after all. But Magnus was right to be angry. Wasn't he?

Magnus deliberates staying in bed for another few minutes, tries his best to fall back asleep. But it's useless, he knows it. His brain can't seem to shut off, replaying not just his conversation with Maryse, but every single encounter with Alec he has had since they met. Every single one.

With a frustrated, heavy sigh, Magnus drags himself out of bed.

 

Running is always a good idea, especially when you can't sleep. It's a little earlier than usual, but Magnus will say that there is something special about running through a mostly abandoned park just as the sun starts peeking up over the New York skyline. It makes the world feel still, even if just for a little while.

Magnus tries not to go at it too hard; he's not really in the mood for pushing himself, at the moment. He really just wants to be outside, to feel the chilly dawn air and let it wake him up and clear his head. As such, he has just barely broken a sweat when he slows down to a halt, eyes catching sight of the sunrise. He approaches the black metal fence at the side of the path, leans against its edge and just exhales, taking in the view. It's a rather mediocre view from here, but still. The clash of trees and cityscape is always an interesting one, and watching the start of a new day is truly lovely.

The running paths are almost entirely abandoned, at the moment. Which might be why the sight of another person in the periphery of Magnus's vision makes him turn to look.

His heart leaps up into his throat.

Alec isn't running. Judging by his outfit, however, he was just a moment ago, and Magnus swallows dryly as Alec calmly makes his way over to him. It takes a second for him to really register that Alec is in fact here, that this is happening, and he can't help the stunned, dry laugh that escapes him.

He shakes his head, just as Alec comes to a stop a few feet away.

"Of all the parks, in all the world," Magnus says, but even as he says it, he knows it doesn't really apply. He always runs here, after all. And he has even seen Alec do the same. Perhaps he was, on some level, hoping that this exact encounter would occur.

Still, Alec chuckles, and he doesn't look too offended, even as he looks away in something like nervousness. Magnus just watches him for a moment, amazed at the way this guy _always_ looks good, somehow. It doesn't seem to matter if he's in casual jeans, formal wear, rain-drenched, or wearing running gear―there's just something about him. Something effortless, something true.

"Yeah, what are the odds," Alec says, matching Magnus's tone as he meets his gaze. He's a little out of breath, just like Magnus―though Magnus can't quite tell anymore if his own shortness of breath is just from running, or simply from the way Alec is looking at him.

Neither of them says anything for a few moments, just watch each other, until Alec sighs.

"You mind?" he says, gesturing at the empty space beside Magnus. Magnus doesn't even hesitate, just shakes his head, and Alec comes to stand next to him. He puts his hands on the black metal fence, and Magnus does his best not to look too long at the way his fingers trail along the rough edges, as though restless.

Magnus looks up at Alec. He's gazing straight ahead, and he looks so quiet, so strong, the golden light of dawn warming his lovely face. Magnus averts his eyes, tries to think of what to say. He needs to say something, _needs_ to. He doesn't know if he'll ever get the chance again.

"I'm―" he starts, before sighing. "I wanted to say, sorry. For..."

He gestures a little, and Alec turns to him.

"For what?" he asks. He sounds genuinely confused, and Magnus gives him a pointed look.

"I've been... unfair, to you," he says. "I know what you did for Simon, and..." He shakes his head, looks straight ahead. "You didn't have to, most people wouldn't have. But you did, anyway. And you fixed Clary and Jace, even though you thought it was a bad idea."

" _Thought,_ " Alec emphasizes, and Magnus turns to him. "Past tense." He inclines his head. "I actually kind of see the appeal, now."

It takes a moment for Magnus to pick up on the dry tone, and he smiles. Alec tentatively mirrors it, clearly glad that Magnus noticed the subtle humor, and Magnus looks away again.

"Still," he says, smile fading. "You really helped them. All of them."

"I didn't do it for them." Alec's voice is soft, and Magnus turns to him, confused. Alec is gazing at him warmly, but he seems to catch himself and clears his throat. "I mean, I― I did." He looks down, runs his fingertips along the metal edge. "Jace is important to me, and Morgenstern is an asshole. Of course, that matters. But..." He swallows. "I didn't like... seeing you like that."

Magnus blinks, his heart stutters.

"Like what?" he asks. Alec meets his gaze.

"Sad."

The one word hits Magnus with surprising force, spoken so softly, so earnestly. He inhales slowly. He doesn't even know what to say to that, how to feel or how to react. He's acutely aware of his heart suddenly thudding against his ribs, and he looks away, thoughts whirling.

Next to him, Alec sighs quietly.

"Look, I don't expect anything from you," he says, as though the words are hard to say. "You've made your feelings pretty clear, and I respect that. But I heard you talked to my mom, and with the stuff you said to her... I guess it just kind of made me a bit hopeful, or something. A bit." He clears his throat, while Magnus just listens. He turns to watch Alec's profile as the young man struggles to find the words, eyes on the view in front of him. "Either way, I'll admit that how I feel hasn't really changed. Maybe it should have, but..."

Alec shakes his head, and Magnus feels his throat go dry. He wants to interrupt Alec, wants to say and show everything that's bursting out of his chest, but he waits. Alec takes a deep breath then, turns to him. He looks determined.

"If you want me to," he says steadily, "I'll go. I'll leave you alone, I promise. You won't hear from me again." He pauses, licks his lips. "But if you don't want me to, if something has changed since last time, somehow... I'd really like to know. Because that would be pretty great."

Magnus can't help the breathy, startled laugh that escapes him at the casual phrasing, and Alec looks a bit taken aback. Magnus shakes his head, tries to correct the impression.

"I'm sorry, I just―" he starts, a smile shaping his lips. "I kind of―"

He's at a loss for words, all the thoughts and feelings just caught in his throat, and his breath turns shallow and quick. Alec is watching him expectantly, a concerned and tense edge to his open expression, and Magnus _can't find the stupid words._

Alec seems surprised when Magnus kisses him, Magnus's fingers finding their way to the back of his neck and pulling him closer. It's only one stunned second, however, before Alec kisses him back, parting his lips and angling his body toward him.

It's like fireworks. Magnus knows it's a cheesy and dumb comparison, but he doesn't know how else to explain the way his skin is suddenly crackling with energy, bright jolts jumping across nerves and erupting in little bursts of color. He moves his hands to Alec's waist and pulls him close. The proximity makes him shiver in the early morning air, but the way Alec's fingers move across his arms and his face makes up for it. Magnus sighs into the kiss, swallowing the small sounds of delighted surprise that spill from Alec's lovely mouth.

He's not sure how long they keep kissing. All Magnus can pay attention to is how it _feels_ , how Alec tastes and sounds, the way his breath hitches a little when Magnus gently pulls on his bottom lip with his mouth. The way his entire body seems to simultaneously tense and relax as Magnus melts against him, everything so _soft_ and _urgent_ , like they're both making up for weeks of lost time. Maybe they are. Somehow, Magnus knows this spark has been there ever since he first laid eyes on this man.

When the two of them finally pull apart, it's just barely. Alec keeps Magnus's face close to his own, noses brushing together as he runs his fingertips along Magnus's jawline. The touch is feather-light, and Magnus doesn't want to move.

"So," Alec says, the single soft word uttered in a slightly breathless, rough voice. "Does that mean you'll say yes, if I ask you out again?"

There's some tentative humor in his tone, and Magnus exhales a laugh, smiling.

"Yeah," he says, nodding, pulling back just enough to meet Alec's gaze. "I'd think so."

"Great," Alec says. His mouth is quickly shaping into a grin, and _god,_ it's so beautiful. "So... You wanna go out sometime?"

Magnus can't help but laugh again, and Alec mirrors the sound, his breath warm against Magnus's face.

"I would love that," Magnus says, and Alec nods. "How about right now?"

He doesn't mean to say it out loud, but the words jump out anyway, and he feels the slightest hint of mortification. Alec, however, doesn't seem to mind.

"Breakfast?" he asks, and Magnus moves in a little closer, sliding his hand up along the back of Alec's head. His hair is messy and damp from both sweat and the early morning air, but Magnus's couldn't care less. He presses a light kiss to his lips.

"Sounds excellent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I adored writing it! Maybe I'll put together a glossary or something to clarify the connections I've made between this fic and p&p/the equivalents I've used, for those who are curious... But yeah, epilogue and Alec POV oneshots, coming up in the near future.
> 
> sidenote: [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uQI8be9NsY) is my musical inspiration for the very last scene of this chapter (you should really give it a listen for the full effect)
> 
> Visit me on [the twitters](https://twitter.com/leMonocleFox) and please yell at me using _#wigbfic_. Also, updating this while irl adulting can be hard work, so if you feel like helping me out, check out [my tumblr](http://lemonoclefox.tumblr.com/wigb) ( _#wigbfic_ works there, too) and maybe treat me to a cup of coffee through the button I've got there?  <3


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month, but god damn it, I said I'd post an epilogue soon-ish, so here it is. I've been sick and just generally busy for a while, so my writing has been affected, but here it is, and I hope you like it.
> 
> Just a note: this epilogue takes place _immediately_ after the end of part 3, and let's just say they release some tension (spoilers? I guess? why am I being coy about this -- there's smut, is what I'm saying). Normally I wouldn't put this in the notes, but I realize that this fic so far has been very non-sexual/non-physical, so to anyone who might prefer to keep it that way, just know that this epilogue will be the opposite (the story itself is done, this is just a bonus, so no story will be lost if you don't read it).
> 
> Also, I've been getting this question a lot, and no, I'm afraid there won't be any more additions to the story after this epilogue (besides the future Alec POV oneshots). This is it, guys.
> 
> Btw if you feel like yelling about this fic (which I happily encourage, as usual), please use the _#wigbfic_ tag. Enjoy!

"I never understood the point of croissants for breakfast," Alec says, as he eyes the paper box in his hand. Magnus throws him a glance.

"There is no point," he says with a frown. "They're delicious. That's it."

Alec quirks a smile.

"You _would_ say that," he says, putting the box down on Magnus's small kitchen table. Magnus swears he feels a blush creep up his neck at how confidently Alec says it, but he doesn't respond.

While Fairchild's is undoubtedly Magnus's favorite bakery around, it didn't seem like the best idea to stroll in there with Alec at six a.m.―it would definitely raise a lot of questions that Magnus just isn't in the mood to answer right now. And he's pretty sure Alec isn't, either. So instead, they sought out Magnus's second-favorite bakery around, and picked up some breakfast to go.

Magnus feels like he should be a little more self-conscious about the state he's in, at the moment; running clothes and an unstyled appearance isn't exactly his ideal look for a first date. Especially not a first date with someone he has actually been _pining_ over for what feels like ages. Even if he didn't realize it, most of that time. But Alec―while still as gorgeous as ever―is in the same attire, so Magnus supposes it's not so bad. Maybe there's even something charming about it. After all, just twenty-four hours ago, he wasn't expecting to _ever_ go on a date with this guy, let alone this very morning.

Not that he's complaining. At all.

"So," Magnus says, putting on some coffee and getting a pair of cups from a kitchen cupboard. He's not quite sure how he and Alec ended up back at his place, but it somehow felt like a private setting was needed, especially after the _lack_ of privacy they've had the past several weeks. And especially after what just happened at the park.

Alec sighs, leans back against the kitchen doorway leading into the living room. It's a very small apartment, not particularly impressive, but Magnus doesn't feel too self-conscious about having Alec here. Alec, who probably lives in a penthouse somewhere.

"So," Alec says.

Magnus turns to him, leans against the kitchen counter as the coffee maker works its magic. He locks his gaze with Alec's across the room, and they just watch each other for a while. Magnus isn't sure for how long, but it's long enough for the finished coffee to start pouring into the pot, and he quirks a small smile when he hears it, looking away. Alec exhales in a quiet laugh, and god, somehow Magnus feels like a teenager bringing his crush home for the first time.

"How do you take your coffee?" Magnus asks conversationally, watching as it finishes brewing, rather than watching Alec.

"Black is fine," Alec says, and Magnus nods. Another stretch of silence follows, but it's not uncomfortable, not awkward. Okay, maybe a little awkward―but it's in a surprisingly good way.

Magnus pours two cups of coffee and places them on the kitchen table, and Alec pulls out a chair to sit down. He watches as Magnus gets a couple of plates and puts them on the table as well, before sitting down across from Alec, the table small enough for the two of them to still be rather close. Magnus tries to ignore the feeling of Alec's eyes on him―though he'll admit that it feels pretty good―as he opens the box from the bakery. It contains chocolate croissants as well as a few macarons, and it's only when Magnus and Alec are halfway through eating them that Magnus looks up.

Alec seems to be doing his best not to stare at Magnus, just like Magnus is doing his best to keep his own expressions in check, but then their eyes meet and Magnus can't help but laugh. He sighs, grinning.

"It's weird, isn't it?" he says.

"A little," Alec admits, mouth shaped into a grin of his own. "But kind of in a good way?"

He says it like he's mostly asking himself, and Magnus nods.

"I'd say so," he says. "Can't help but wonder what Clary would say about all of this."

Alec looks down at his coffee cup.

"Do you think they know?" he asks, a little hesitantly, like he's been wanting to ask but hasn't dared to. Magnus hums, mirrors Alec by looking down at his own half-eaten croissant.

"I don't know," he says. "Can't say. At least not on my end."

Alec frowns, Magnus can hear it in his voice.

"How so?" he asks.

"I, um," Magnus starts, a little hesitantly, "haven't really told anyone. About any of our previous developments."

He looks up at Alec, whose expression is one of soft confusion, and something else.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and Magnus realizes he's _hurt,_ if ever so slightly.

"I don't mean it like that," Magnus assures him, shaking his head. "I haven't been hiding it, just..." He exhales, tries to put it into words. "I didn't even know what to make of it, myself. Any of it. And with Clary's drama, and Fairchild's, and then Simon... It just never really came up."

Alec nods slowly, seems put at ease by that explanation. It both faintly amuses and saddens Magnus that he would be so hurt by the idea of Magnus not telling his friends and family about their slow and unconventional courtship.

"Although," Magnus adds in a lighter tone, "that time you professed your feelings in the rain, like you'd walked out of a romance novel..." He inclines his head. "Keeping that to myself was particularly difficult."

Alec emits a sound between an embarrassed groan and a laugh, as he ducks his head and avoids Magnus's eyes. Meanwhile, Magnus is utterly charmed, and can't help but grin at the sight of it.

"I didn't," Alec starts, with some sheepish apprehension, "'profess my feelings'."

"No, I believe your choice of words were that you were 'into me'," Magnus says, and Alec looks up. With his face tilted down, the look comes off more coy and simultaneously sly than he probably intends, and it makes a strange shiver run across Magnus's skin.

"Right," Alec says, smiling a little. "That."

"That," Magnus concurs, with a nod and a sip of his coffee. Alec sighs heavily, leaning back in his seat.

"Didn't work though, did it," he says. It's more a statement than a question, and he directs his gaze at the paper box on the table, playing with its flap absently. He doesn't sound sad or bitter―it's more of an observation―but Magnus replies anyway.

"It did," he says, and Alec looks up at him, surprised. Magnus clears his throat. "I was just... being an ass about it."

Alec watches him for a moment, before a slow grin appears on his face.

"So," he says, drawing out the word as he leans forward, "it _did_ work?" Magnus nods. "Yeah?"

Magnus takes a breath, momentarily distracted by how Alec looks up close. There's dark stubble across his chin and cheeks, eyes bright with just slightly self-conscious curiosity. His hair is a mess, his lips shaped into a crooked smile, and it's all Magnus can do to not just stare at him for a full hour.

"I'll admit it made an impression," he settles on. "Even if I was a bit too stubborn to realize it, at the time." He glances down at the cup in his hands, taps the edge with his finger. He notices that it's empty now, and he rises from his seat to head to refill it. "And your surprise visit the next day didn't exactly hurt your cause, either."

Alec hums. He seems to hesitate for a moment, before getting up as well.

"That wasn't on purpose," he admits. "I mean, neither was the... other thing, really. You were just sort of _there_ , and I was there, and no one else was there. Figured I'd try." He sighs, folding his arms as he leans against the kitchen counter. "But yeah, I wasn't planning on spilling my family history."

"Well, whatever the plan was," Magnus says, putting his cup down, "or whatever it wasn't, it made a difference." He turns to Alec, leans against the counter as well, the need for more coffee suddenly forgotten. He hesitates. "For someone who prides himself on seeing past the surface, I did a pretty terrible job at it, with you."

"I think it worked out okay," Alec says. "In the end."

His voice is a little lower now, somehow more fitting for the intimate situation they suddenly find themselves in, and Magnus just watches him for a few seconds. He hasn't been this close before, not since earlier this morning. Before that, it was in that gazebo, in the rain. Without any other distractions, Magnus realizes he can really pay attention to it all now, breathe in Alec's scent and his presence, really pay attention to how just the sight of Alec absently licking his lips gives him goosebumps.

Magnus wants to kiss him. There's nothing he wants more, and it takes a second for him to remember that he _can._ He can kiss Alec now, whenever he wants, for however long he wants―or at least for as long as Alec will allow him. And he wants to. Thankfully, Alec raises no objections when Magnus covers the small distance between them and captures his lips with his own.

The kiss starts off tentative, slow, curious. Their first kiss, just an hour ago, was breathtaking and exciting―but it was also public. Perhaps there's something about being behind closed doors that makes this time different, but whatever the reason, it just is. Magnus knows it the moment a certain kind of heat starts building in his gut. It goes from softly eager to something more urgent, and there's a vague sense of warning in the back of his mind.

Why, though? Alec is real and here and _his_ ―oh god, he is _his―_ and there is no reason for either of them to hold back. For once.

Alec must be thinking the same thing, because he deepens the kiss then, slipping his hand around Magnus's waist as his tongue teases at the seam of his lips. Magnus can't help but sigh, smoothing his palm up along Alec's neck and pulling him closer against him. He has never consciously wondered how Alec might taste, but now that he knows, he has immediately realized that it's a taste he wants so much more of.

Magnus moves so that he's in front of Alec, pushing him against the edge of the counter, and he shivers at the way Alec's hands slide down to the small of his back. His breathing is already getting heavier, there's a loud thudding in his ears, and Magnus giddily feels the way Alec inhales deeply at the close proximity. The heat keeps building, coiling tightly in Magnus's gut, and he slips his tongue inside Alec's mouth, tasting him and feeling him tense under his hands.

It's so much, _so much,_ and Magnus wants all of it.

He sucks in a sharp breath, pulls away just slightly.

"Okay," he says, the word no more than an exhale, a desperate attempt to pull himself together. "Okay, we, uh― Maybe we should slow down a bit."

Alec hums, swallows dryly.

"Yeah," he says, his voice low and rough in a way it definitely wasn't a second ago. It does interesting things to Magnus's body. Alec nods. "Yeah, let's do that."

Magnus just nods back, can't really think of what to say.

"Right," he says. His gaze holds with Alec's for a few moments, before it trails down to his mouth, those lovely lips slightly parted as Alec's breath quickens. Those lovely, kiss-swollen lips. "I mean, it's our first date."

"Uh-huh," Alec says, keeps nodding. He sounds about as distracted as Magnus feels, his hands firmly planted low on Magnus's back. He keeps them there, as though urging them not to wander. Magnus swallows, pulls back a little further, enough for Alec to let him go.

"We don't really know each other that well," he continues, even though he knows that's not strictly speaking true, or even relevant. His fingers absently trail down over Alec's clavicle, palm pressing against his chest in an attempt to keep him at a distance. He's so, _so_ warm, and Magnus can feel him tense up at his touch. Magnus takes a step back, then another, letting his hand drop. "And we're all sweaty and gross."

"So gross," Alec agrees breathlessly, taking a step forward. Magnus doesn't stop him, just watches the way the muscles move beneath Alec's t-shirt, the way his shoulders heave with every heavy breath. The kitchen is small, and they're now standing in the middle of it, but Magnus barely notices. He finds himself reaching out again, smoothing his hand up along Alec's chest, slowly twisting his fingers into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

"Exactly," he says, not much louder than a murmur, eyes on the column of Alec's neck, his jawline. He pulls on the shirt, just barely, but it's enough to bring Alec closer and to make him settle his hands on Magnus's hips. He brings their bodies closer together, _closer_ , pushing with enough restraint for Magnus to easily stay put―but also with just enough force for Magnus to easily just give in and let Alec back him up against the nearest wall. Just like that, a hard surface is suddenly pressing against Magnus's back, trapping him between it and Alec, and _god_ , he should mind it but he really doesn't.

When Alec moves in a little closer, inadvertently wedging his knee between Magnus's, Magnus can't help the throaty sound that escapes him.

"I probably smell really bad," Magnus continues, barely even aware of what he's saying anymore. He moves his hand from Alec's chest and splays his fingers across his back instead―it's such a nice back―his other hand dragging up along his neck and grabbing onto his hair.

"Yeah," Alec says, but the way he presses his thigh against Magnus's crotch keeps Magnus from forming a coherent reply. "We both do. Probably."

His breathing is heavy, his nose nudging just slightly against Magnus's as he leans in even closer. Magnus closes his eyes, feels Alec's breath on his face. He can feel all of him now, their bodies lined up so perfectly, pressed together, the high from the run and the sunrise and the kissing and the confessions and just _being near,_ all of it mingling together in an exquisite, blinding cocktail. Not to mention what feels like an eternity of longing, of wanting to touch.

It hits Magnus then, that before their first kiss, they had never even touched at all. Not even the slightest brush of hands, nothing. They need to make up for that. Immediately.

"You reek," Magnus says absently, Alec's hands pushing his hips back against the wall as he presses up against him. Magnus can't help but grind against the pressure, slowly. "It's awful."

Alec does kind of smell, like Magnus does, too. But it's raw and warm and oddly enticing, and Magnus feels a low groan rise in his throat as Alec's hard chest pushes against his own.

"You might reek less if this came off," Alec replies, tugging at Magnus's sleeveless hoodie, and Magnus is momentarily stunned by the snappy reply. Then the moment passes, and he breathes a laugh, before crashing their lips together in a kiss.

It's like gasping for air, Alec's arms immediately wrapping around Magnus's body as he pushes his tongue into his mouth. Magnus lets out an undignified moan, pulling Alec so unbelievably close and reveling in the sensation of Alec being just as excited as he is―he's so obviously hard now, pressing against Magnus and making him grind against the sweet pressure. Magnus isn't quite sure how they went from sincere conversation to _this,_ but he has entirely given up on complaining or rationalizing, and now he just _wants._

Alec's hands move to the zipper of Magnus's hoodie, pulling it down, and Magnus helpfully frees his arms so Alec can pull the hoodie off. He barely notices any shift in temperature when it does come off, his skin already burning―but he does notice the way Alec just stops for a moment and stares, eyes raking over Magnus's torso, all the way down. Alec just gapes, his breath coming heavy and fast.

"Whoa," he exhales, and Magnus feels a spike of heat shoot down his spine. He yanks Alec closer by the waistband of his pants, pulling his attention up to Magnus's eyes.

Magnus says nothing, instead just claims his mouth again, sliding his hands up underneath Alec's t-shirt and dragging his painted nails down over his back. Alec lets out a startled moan against Magnus's lips, lazily moving his hips in a way that's just infuriating, and Magnus decides that he just needs that shirt _off_. He needs all of it _off_ , he needs more skin, more heat, more―

"Shower?" Magnus breathes, and Alec doesn't hesitate for even a split second.

"Shower," he agrees with a nod.

It somehow takes much too long to get there. By the time they've actually stumbled through the small apartment and reached the bathroom, Alec's t-shirt is on the floor, and their pants are the only items of clothing still (frustratingly) on.

Alec is just as much of a vision without a shirt as with one, and Magnus swears he lets out an involuntary whine of something like frustrated appreciation as he sees it, because _why_ haven't they always been doing this? Why didn't he just kiss Alec that time in the rain, or outside that bar? He feels like they could be doing this for days, and it still wouldn't be enough, Alec's hands on him a splendid sensation he never wants to end.

It's not until they're in the bathroom and the shower is running, that Magnus pauses.

"It's not too fast?" he says, still breathless and only half-focused on what he's saying. His hands have already slipped beneath the waistband of Alec's boxer briefs, clearly speaking on his behalf, regardless. "We're sure?"

Alec pulls away just slightly, far enough to meet Magnus's eye. He looks just as high as Magnus feels.

"Uh," he starts, blinks. "Yes? I mean, if you―" He inhales sharply, seemingly trying to concentrate on providing a proper answer. "Personally, I've wanted this for a really long time, but if you don't, we don't have to―"

He says it in a rush, and Magnus cuts him off.

"No, I do," he says, oddly relieved and excited that he's not alone in this. "I do. Believe me, I do." He pulls Alec closer for emphasis, gaze dropping to his lips. "It's just― A little surreal, I suppose."

His eyes meet Alec's again, and Alec breathes a surprised laugh.

"'Surreal' is a good word for it," he says, running his fingers over Magnus's buzzed hair. "In a positive way?"

Magnus nods.

"Definitely," he says, and kisses Alec again.

If there's one thing that has been over-romanticized, it's shower sex, and everything about it―Magnus is a firm believer of this. The sheer impracticality of it is often a turn-off on its own, and it's rarely worth it. But today is an exception. The moment Magnus steps under the hot spray of water and pulls Alec in with him, he decides that it definitely has its perks, especially when Alec wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close. The feeling of it is more than enough to distract Magnus from everything and anything else―it all just narrows down to _this._

Magnus hasn't really allowed himself to think about it before, what this might be like, tasting Alec's skin and making him exhale in rough, muted groans. While the thought has definitely crossed his mind, he has never let it stick, has never let it elaborate and develop into something more tangible. It has been too risky, and ever since Magnus momentarily let his imagination trail off during that evening bath at the resort, he has made sure to nip it in the bud every time.

That said, he'll admit that the sensation of Alec's bare, wet skin against his own is something he realizes he has wanted for a _very_ long time.

He wants to touch all of him, wants to taste and feel _all_ of him, and he can barely form a single coherent thought because of it. Magnus slides his hand down along Alec's stomach, his side, over his hip, just savoring the way those hard planes feel beneath his fingers, slick with water. He pulls on Alec's bottom lip gently with his teeth, making him gasp, and the sound makes something rise in Magnus's chest, something that prompts him to push Alec back against the shower wall.

Alec doesn't complain. The way he kisses Magnus with new intensity speaks volumes, and he happily pulls Magnus even closer as he presses up against him.

There are no words. Magnus can't even think of any, at least none that matter. He speaks with action instead, telling Alec through every touch and every hungry sound how much he wants this, how much he needs it. Alec responds in kind, even more so when Magnus smoothes his hand down past his stomach to wrap his fingers around him. He's a vision, parting his lips in a labored breath as Magnus touches him with the utmost reverence and want, as well as agonizing precision.

Alec moaning is one of the best sounds in the world, Magnus decides then and there. His fingers at the back of Magnus's neck, foreheads pressed together as he pants against Magnus's mouth between heated kisses, grinding against the pressure of Magnus's hand and digging his nails into his back, splendid sounds of pleasure leaving his lips... Magnus wants nothing more than to hear it peak, to watch Alec fall apart and tremble, all because of him.

Alec doesn't disappoint, sliding his hand down along Magnus's wet skin to help him reach his own climax, and those lovely fingers quickly summon stars to dance in front of Magnus's eyes.

Suddenly, Magnus can't breathe. He can't, so he tries to breathe in Alec instead, hands and hot skin and running water only enhancing the thrilling sensation of their mouths moving together, tasting and devouring and coaxing. It's too much of everything at once, and when Magnus comes, it somehow takes him by surprise. It sears through his veins, fast and mercilessly―Magnus is only distantly aware of Alec falling over the edge with him, yet his ragged breathing is still enough to enhance the brilliant sensation itself.

It's over much too quickly, but when Magnus finds Alec's lips again with his own, his weak knees and thundering heartbeat are enough to make him emit a breathless laugh. They're here, Alec is _here,_ and Magnus couldn't be happier.

 

He can't seem to stop touching him. No matter how hard Magnus tries―though he'll admit he's not really trying _that_ hard―he can't seem to pull his hands away from Alec, fingers tracing his arms, his shoulders, the outlines of his chest and his stomach. Maybe it's from all that time spent _not_ touching. All that time spent just watching and wanting and yearning, for longer than Magnus even realized, before.

In hindsight, it's as though his feelings didn't _change_ over the course of slowly getting to know Alec, not really. More than anything, they woke up.

"You know," Magnus says absently, his voice full of sated, tired contentment from the morning's various activities. "I couldn't stand you, first time we met."

"Yeah?" Alec says. He sounds surprisingly unsurprised.

"Yeah," Magnus says. "Well, not just the first time we met. For weeks after. Ages. Couldn't stand you."

Alec sighs heavily, but there's a small smile in his voice when he speaks.

"I figured," he says. Magnus meets his gaze, and there's an almost mischievous glint in those lovely eyes.

"Oh, did you, now?" he says. Alec nods, head resting on the pillows of Magnus's bed.

"You weren't exactly subtle about it," he says.

"You were the one who called me _over the top_ ," Magnus reminds him, maybe a little defensively,  and Alec groans into the crook of his neck. He clearly remembers what he said to Jace that first night―he doesn't seem surprised that Magnus remembers, too. Magnus wonders if it's because he so brazenly had his own words thrown back at him just an hour or so after he said them.

"Confession?" Alec says, pulling back and meeting Magnus's eye. "I kind of exaggerated. I mean, you were over the top, you _are._ But I liked it. Couldn't stop staring at you."

Magnus hums, pleasantly surprised.

"And here I thought you were trying to kill me with glares," he says. Alec huffs a laugh.

"Ditto," he says, propping himself up on his elbow to lean down and press a brief kiss to Magnus's lips. "Your glare-game is strong, you know."

"Well, that means something, coming from you." Magnus gently pushes back Alec's still shower-wet hair with his fingers. "By the way, it didn't help that you kept acting as though I was the biggest nuisance you'd ever seen."

Alec sighs, trails his fingertips in swirly patterns over Magnus's bare chest.

"As I've said before," he says. "I'm not great at talking to people I don't know." There's a small pause. "Especially really hot people I have a crush on."

A giddy warmth stirs in Magnus's stomach, and he can't stop himself from smiling.

"Well," he says. "You're not all bad, either."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." Magnus shifts, pulls away far enough to get a better look at this gorgeous man. The morning sun spilling through the window illuminates Alec's skin in a rather lovely way. "In a certain light. If I squint."

He squints as he says it, and Alec's eyebrows go up in mock offense―his grin is a dead giveaway, though.

"Just certain angles, huh?" he asks, and Magnus hums.

"Yeah," he says absently, craning his neck to exaggerate his examination. "Natural lighting does you some good, though. Just like this. It's almost―"

Alec cuts him off with an amused groan, and swiftly climbs on top of him, pinning his wrists down against the pillows. Magnus is startled, but can't help but laugh.

"Don't make me kick you out of bed," Alec warns.

"It's _my_ bed," Magnus points out, as Alec slowly leans down, closer. Just as he's about to bring their lips together, though, Magnus pulls his hands free and grabs Alec instead, pushing his weight against him and flipping them both over. Alec lands on his back with a surprised huff, and Magnus straddles him, mirroring Alec's previous position as he pins his wrists down. Alec's eyes widen, before he breaks into a smile, and Magnus leans down slightly. "That said, I suppose I wouldn't mind cooperating if it means keeping you here." He presses his lips to Alec's in a soft kiss. "I'm into you too, you know. Forgive me for being slightly overwhelmed by the object of my affection suddenly lying naked in my bed."

Alec's expression turns softly stunned, but he quickly recovers.

"But only from certain angles?" he asks pointedly. It's obvious that he's not actually offended by Magnus's teasing, and Magnus sighs.

"From all angles," he reassures anyway, kissing him again, sliding his hands down along those strong lower arms. "All the time. I could stare at you, all day."

He doesn't quite mean to say it―it feels incredibly vulnerable, as he does, despite the light tone. But he means it. And somehow, Alec might be the first person in a very long time he doesn't mind seeing that vulnerability, someone he even _wants_ to see it. It's a very odd, thrilling, and terrifying sensation.

Alec doesn't reply, but the way he just looks at Magnus is assurance enough. There's something gentle there, something _moved,_ and Magnus knows he'd say something similar in reply if he had a way to properly express it.

How strange, Magnus thinks, that although they don't have much history in terms of conversation, they already know and read each other so easily.

"I can really only promise the morning," Alec says, his voice soft despite its joking edge, as he moves his hands to Magnus's back and smoothes them up along his skin. It makes Magnus shiver. "For now, anyway. The real world beckons."

Magnus smiles.

"Just as long as this isn't the _only_ morning," he says, and Alec sighs contentedly, pulling him down for a kiss, wrapping his arms around him.

"Don't worry," he says against Magnus's lips. "I plan to make this my new morning routine."

Magnus can't help but laugh, Alec grinning underneath him.

"Good luck with that," Magnus says. "I do have insane work hours to keep up with."

"So do I," Alec says. "We're even."

Magnus smiles, kisses him deeply, parting their lips and sighing into Alec's mouth. He feels Alec's arms tighten slightly around him, pressing their bodies closer together, and he makes a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh.

"Come on," he warns. "You can't do that."

"Do what?" Alec asks innocently.

"That," Magnus says, and Alec raises his eyebrows.

"Why not?" He slides his hands down to Magnus's lower back as he holds his gaze, grips tightly, and Magnus sucks in a breath.

"You know," he says, "I'm starting to think I liked you better as a stoic, adorable mess."

Alec chuckles.

"Well, sorry to disappoint," he says, and Magnus hums in thought.

"Not disappointed," he says. "Surprised." He rests his forehead against Alec's. "You never cease to amaze me, to be honest."

Alec smiles.

"In good ways, I hope."

Magnus kisses him.

"The best."

"Good enough to tell everyone?" Alec teases, and Magnus narrows his eyes.

"Let's not get carried away," he says. "We've got―" he glances at the clock on his bedside table― "fifteen more minutes before I have to go anywhere, and actually talk to anyone. Until then, you are mine."

Alec laughs at the determination in Magnus's tone, as he pulls him down for another kiss.

"I can work with that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! I hope you enjoyed it, I had a blast writing it (just like the rest of this story). Also, if anyone is curious, [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywjMtZH5Cls) was my musical inspiration for the smutty parts, fun fact.
> 
> As I've said before, there will be a few Alec oneshots from his POV within the story, and they will be in chronological order. The first should be up soon-ish, but they'll be a series, rather than part of this fic. Soo, if you want to know when they post, subscribing to the series would be the way to go (the series which this fic will also be part of, obviously). That said, like previously mentioned, this is the last of the story. I won't be updating with any other developments about what happens next, you'll just have to use your imagination. Anyway, thank you for reading!
> 
> Visit me on [the twitters](https://twitter.com/leMonocleFox) and please yell at me using _#wigbfic_. Also, updating this while irl adulting can be hard work, so if you feel like helping me out, check out [my tumblr](http://lemonoclefox.tumblr.com/wigb) ( _#wigbfic_ works there, too) and maybe treat me to a cup of coffee through the button I've got there?  <3


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